


thanks for the good times

by isakyaki



Category: Backstage (TV 2016)
Genre: Backstage, Backstage Disney, Bullying, Disney Channel, Homophobic Language, M/M, Multi, if anyone wants to beta...lol...let me know, some mean stuff goes down
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-07 07:36:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7706056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isakyaki/pseuds/isakyaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They tell each other everything.</p><p>Up until a few weeks ago, Jax and Miles would have nightly conversations that went into the wee hours of the morning about things that they hated, things that meant something to them, things that they’d never told anyone else. Jax had told Miles about his sister moving away, about his parents’ possible divorce, about his classical music training and why he was embarrassed of it. Miles had told Jax all the ins-and-outs of his kidney illness, even the scary parts (especially the scary parts). They tell each other everything. That’s what they do. And, now, Jax has the nerve to keep something from Miles? No, that is not what they do. Miles will not let that be something they do.</p><p>or, the one where jax is not an open book - especially, when he doesn't want to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, this is an experiment. A well thought-out experiment, but even still. A test, is what this is.  
> I know the Backstage fandom is not the largest; and, I know that those who ship little, sweet Jax and Miles together are even fewer. But, honestly, this is the farthest (and most inspired) I've ever been when it comes to fanfiction, so I'm going to try, try anyway.  
> Please, please, PLEASE do not hesitate to comment! I don't have a Beta reader, so feedback is MUCH appreciated, good pals of the interwebs. I'd love to hear what works, what doesn't work, and all that LOVELY jazz.  
> And, no, it doesn't end here! I have Chapter Two written, but I'd like to get the third finished (and generate some interest) before I post.  
> Thanks for the read, and I sincerely hope you enjoy.

There is an empty seat where there usually isn’t an empty seat.

Miles continues to stare at it dumbly. It does not move. It does not offer an explanation as to why it is empty. It simply sits.

Miles shakes his head, looks away to face Mr. Park. The teacher has been rambling on about half-notes and quarter-notes and the importance of the distinction for about -  Miles looks at his watch - twenty minutes now. Why has it felt like an hour since this class started?

Miles checks the empty seat again. Still empty, it reminds him. He checks his watch. Twenty minutes, 18 seconds. He checks his phone. _No new messages._

Alya humphs a few seats away. Miles looks at her. She leans over the empty seat to whisper in his ear, “If Jax were here -” she pauses to check the door. Miles looks, too. He’s not here - “If Jax were here, we would have gotten through this lecture in 30 seconds because he would have explained it all already.” Alya checks the door again, then glances back at Miles. He sees the question in her eyes. She’s saying, ‘ _it’s not strange for him to be late, but this late?_ ’ Miles gives her an eyebrow-raise, a shrug, and turns back to the empty seat.

Still empty. He thinks he should text him.

He pulls his phone from his pocket again. Still _no new messages,_ it reads. He opens the text conversation with _Action Jaxson_ . It surprises Miles that he has to scroll down a bit to get to it. Their last text was sent three days ago and it reads, “ _all good_ .” Miles had sent it. Jax had canceled on a pre-planned Minecraft session that night. He hadn’t said why he couldn’t play; just that it ‘ _wasn’t the best idea_ .’ Whatever that meant. In other words, it wasn’t actually ‘ _all good_ ’, but Miles didn’t like to make things uncomfortable.

But, this time, Miles needs to know where Jax is and why. The moments they had together were becoming fewer and farther in between, and it was beginning to get on Miles’ nerves. Now Jax decides to miss one of their only classes together? No, screw not wanting to make Jax uncomfortable;  _Miles_ wants some best friend time.

He sends “ _you good?_ ” to Jax. “ _Good_ ” is kind of their always. Miles mentally kicks himself for understanding that reference. He read the book awhile back, but has never seen the movie. He remembers both Alya and Bianca contending that the book was the better option.

Behind him, Miles hears a familiar _ding_ noise. He turns around just as the classroom door is opening. Jax saunters into class with his phone in one hand and a slip of paper in the other. Park says, “Jackson, good morning,” accepting the little piece of paper Jax wordlessly hands to him, a silent understanding seeming to pass between them. Jax turns on his feet and heads to his empty seat next to Miles, throwing a smirk his friend’s way. “All good,” Jax says.

Miles watches Mr. Park scribble something down onto his attendance sheet, clap his hands, and continue on with the lecture. Miles is about to turn to Jax and demand a reason as to why his best friend was late to class, but Jax’s mouth is already open, correcting Mr. Park’s illustration of a treble clef: “the little swoopy thing should face the left, Park.”

“It’s subjective, Jax.”

“Yeah, if subjective means ‘wrong’.”

Miles sighs and decides to be content that the seat isn’t empty anymore.

\---

“Jackson, how’d you get a note for being late?” The words are out of Bianca’s mouth before Miles feels confident enough to ask. The bell signaling the end of class has just rung and everyone is packing up their instruments. Except for Jax. He had all his stuff ready and packed five minutes before the bell rang, seemingly ready to run as soon as the time came. He pauses on his descent out of the classroom to turn back to his friends. “Bus came late.” Three words and he’s off, picking up his backpack and jetting to his next class. Miles isn’t sure how that explanation really fits this scenario, but obviously, Jax is not up for talking. Miles decides to leave it for now.

“Weird, huh?” Alya asks, just as Bianca voices from the row behind them, “What’s up with him?” Miles gives a hopeless shrug, and the two girls fall silent.

As Bianca and Alya meander toward the classroom door, Miles decides to take a chance. He approaches Mr. Park, waving the girls off, saying he’ll meet up with them later. Once he’s gotten his teacher’s attention, he voices his concern. “It’s not against any school policy for me to ask why Jax was late today, is it?”

Park makes a questioning face. “No, not to ask. But, it might be easier to just ask _Jax_ , Miles.”

“Yeah, well.” Miles looks at the empty seat. It’s beginning to mock him again. He turns back to Mr. Park. “I don’t think he’d tell me the truth.”

His teacher clears his throat and stands from his desk. “I think if Jax has chosen to hide something from you, he’s got good reason. Your friend will tell you when he’s ready.”

Miles watches Park walk around his desk with suspicious eyes. “What do you know that I don’t know?”

Setting down some papers he’s been collecting and letting out a sigh, Mr. Park sits on top of his desk, inviting Miles to take a seat next to him. Miles hesitantly does so, wondering when this turned into a Serious Conversation. “Miles,” Park begins, keeping his voice low. This elicits an eyebrow-raise out of Miles. “Miles, the note Mr. Gardner gave me was signed by the principal. He was late because they were having a meeting, most likely with his parents, about something regarding certain behaviors at this school and what is appropriate.” Miles’ eyebrows pull tightly together at the news. “Now, because of the - “ Miles’ teacher pauses, hands in the air, trying to formulate his words correctly, it seems - “nature of the situation, I would suggest going to Jax for more information. It’s nothing too bad, really, Jax is fine; it’s just...not my business to say any more. Okay?”

“Sure.” Miles hops off the desk, not anymore comfortable with the situation than when he had hopped on. He racks his brain for something Jax has done that would elicit this kind of response from the school board. Okay, so, Jax has mouthed off in class a few times, but does that really deserve a personal warning from the principal? Miles shakes his head, trying to clear out some of the fog. Doesn’t work. “Thanks, Park. Uh, Mr. Park. See ya tomorrow.”

He heads for the door, wondering if whatever had happened this morning could be part of the reason why Jax is avoiding him. That is, if Jax really is avoiding him; Miles needs to continuously remind himself of that. It could very well be that Jax is going through family problems right now or something; something that’s making him seem down at school. It isn’t unlike Jax to keep all of his (serious) problems to himself. And, Miles knows it’s serious because if it was a problem like an annoying teacher or self-righteous classmate, the whole school would know about it by now. Wait. Didn’t his older sister just move away? To New York or something? Yeah, she did, didn’t she? Miles didn’t know Jax’s sister that well - or really at all - but he knew that the move wasn’t exactly approved by their parents. That could also explain why Jax had to take the bus to school this morning! Oh, wait, that lie had been debunked by Park, hadn’t it? Ugh. Miles’ mind is running itself straight into the ground. He pauses his trek to Math for Musicians class for a moment to rest, and that’s when he hears it.

Yep, that’s Jax’s voice in the hallway behind him. It’s light-hearted and bouncy, like it was when their friendship had first started. Miles hasn’t made Jax sound like that in weeks. Who’s doing this now? The little green monster on his shoulder makes him turn on his heels, heading in their direction to discover who’s taken his place in Jax’s friendship circle.

He hears Kit’s voice, too, and decides against turning the corner so they won’t see him. Kit? Really, of all people? Miles doesn’t know her that well, but they have met through Jax a few times. The two are in Music Production together, so they share plenty more classes than Miles and his own best friend do. Knowing full well that he should turn right back around and head to class himself, he doesn’t move a muscle, gluing his shoes to the floor, and listening intently to the two DJs’ conversation.

“Yeah, this weekend. Bring Miles. And, whoever else. Beau. Alya. Not Bianca. I’ll text you the address; cool?”

“Uh, I don’t know about Miles.” Pause. “Yeah, I don’t know anything about Miles, Kit. Maybe. We’ll see. I’ll ask- well, we’ll see.”

“Does he know about Beau yet? Or about -”

“He doesn’t know anything about anything yet, Kit. I’m still freaked about telling him.”

“Wouldn’t you want to know? If it were happening to him?”

“Of course. But, it’s not. Listen, we should get to class.”

“Whatever, man.”

Miles hears Kit’s boots and Jax's sneakers clomp in his direction and he starts to bolt, the conversation he’d just overheard weighing heavily on his mind. However, before he can get too far, he hears a third voice; a voice he doesn’t recognize as well.

“Hey, little guy.” The voice is thick and deep, layered with antagonism and sarcasm. “How’s the weather down there on your knees, homo?”

Miles doesn’t know who this guy is talking to, but he hopes Jax has left; he hates watching kids get bullied. He’s about to turn the corner and come to the poor kid’s defense, but the late bell rings and the bully’s voice dissipates.

Miles’ head is getting foggy again. He reaches for his meds in his back pocket and pops one. He’s not supposed to take them out-of-schedule unless something is really wrong.

And, something is _really_ wrong.

\---

The conversation overheard between Jax and Kit looms darkly over Miles’ head all throughout morning classes. Up until a few weeks ago, Jax and Miles would have nightly conversations that went into the wee hours of the morning about things that they hated, things that meant something to them, things that they’d never told anyone else. Jax had told Miles about his sister moving away, about his parents’ possible divorce, about his classical music training and why he was embarrassed of it. Miles had told Jax all the ins-and-outs of his kidney illness, even the scary parts ( _especially_ the scary parts). They tell each other everything. That’s what they _do_ . And, now, Jax has the nerve to keep something from Miles? No, that is _not_ what they do. Miles will not let that be something they do.

He approaches his regular lunch table during break and scans the quad for Jax. It’s time for a talk, Miles decides. When he does locate his best friend, he can feel his eyebrows furrow. This is new.

When did Jax start hanging out with...dancers?

Has it been going on for awhile? Or, has Jax just started eating lunch on that side of the campus recently? Miles scrutinizes the position he finds his friend in. The kids from dance are all huddled around one lunch table - Sasha Roy, the Golden Boy, perched on top of it smack-dab in the middle of it all - with Jax peering over their shoulders, standing off to the side, not quite included but Sasha’s got a hand on his shoulder from where he’s sitting, apparently telling a story that’s got everyone in stitches. Everyone except Jax, who looks almost embarrassed, cheeks reaching a light shade of pink, eyes glancing away every now and then.

Watching them with candid jealousy, Miles can’t remember the last time he got to eat lunch with his best friend. He can’t remember the last time Jax asked if he’d eaten anything that day. He can’t remember the last time Jax voluntarily spent time with him outside of class. He pops a pill.

“When did Jax start eating lunch with the dancing people?” Miles asks Alya around a mouth-full of water when she plops down across from him at their lunch table. The blonde turns to face the object of Miles’ glare. “Hmm. I don’t know.”

“Me, neither.” Miles picks up a chip and tosses it into his mouth. He watches Sasha pat his best friend repeatedly on the shoulder - grinning widely - while the latter rubs his forehead embarrassingly with one hand and pulls his phone from his back pocket with the other. Jax reads what is most likely a text and his eyes wander up to meet Miles’. Miles hurriedly glances away, catching Alya typing furiously on his phone.

“Alya!” He gasps, pulling his phone from her grasp. His hands shake as he reads the messages she sent: ‘i’m being stupid, sorry’ and ’we should talk.’ “Alya,” he sighs again.

“Someone’s gotta get you two back together,” she grins, smugly, and pops a celery stick into her mouth.

Miles sighs heavily, picking up his lunch tray and stashing the uneaten contents in the trash. “See ya,” he offers glumly to Alya, not bothering to wait for an answer, before sauntering off to - he doesn’t even know where; he just hopes Jax is following him.

“You’re welcome!” Alya calls as Miles hurries away. “Yeah, thanks,” Miles hears Jax reply to the blonde and he knows his best friend is directly behind him.

Once they're inside the building, taking up an empty hallway, Miles turns and faces Jax. “Come here,” he suggests because Jax is too far away. The boy in question takes a few steps closer to Miles, a hesitant look on his face.

“You didn’t eat,” Jax begins.

“I took my meds.”

“But, you didn’t eat. You’re only supposed to take them after you eat.”

“I had some chips.” There’s a pause. “Come here.”

Jax steps even closer, leaving only about five feet of distance between him and his friend. “What?”

“What? Really?” Miles tests. He doesn’t know what to say next.

“Well…” Jax pauses, obviously unsure of where this is going either. “Are you mad at me for something?”

“You’re the one avoiding me. Where were you this morning? Why were you late?” Miles crosses his arms and takes a step back.

Jax doesn’t follow him. “Oh. Well.”

_Caught him._

“Why are you keeping things from me?”

Jax says nothing. Nothing. Just stares at the ground.

Miles says nothing. Doesn’t know what to say. Just wants Jax to look at him. He thought their friendship was better than this.

“I thought our friendship was better than this.”

That gets Jax’s head to pop up. “Better than what?”

Miles says nothing. Again. He thinks the situation is pretty self-explanatory.

“Okay, so, I made some new friends. You can hang out with us, you know. You don’t have to be all gloomy by yourself, pretty boy.”

Is that what they’re choosing to focus on? Okay. Fine. “I’m not by myself, actually. I have Alya.” Miles doesn’t say that’s not enough.

“Right. You have Alya. I have Sasha. We’re fine.”

“It’s different, though. With Alya, I mean.”

Jax looks like that’s exactly what he didn’t want to hear. “I know.” He takes a breath and goes on. “Look, Kit’s having her birthday party Saturday night. Bring Alya if you want to. But, come. I’ll text you the address. Don’t bring a present; I got it. Just.” He stops and takes another calming breath. “There’s a guy I want you to meet.” _Beau?_ “Just be there, okay?”

He turns and Miles wants to stop him, wants to ask if everything’s really okay. If they’re good, but.

“Good?” Jax has already said it. He’s looking at Miles over his shoulder expectantly. Miles’ lips turn up of their own accord. A few weeks ago, that wouldn’t have been enough, but today, Jax just turns. And, he goes. And, that’s that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles discovers that there are some things you can't tell people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hereeee's Chapter Two! I want to thank everybody who commented and gave kudos to the first chapter; I'm getting really excited for this fic. I'm typing up Chapter Three now, too, so by next Sunday, it should be up! It's looking like Sundays are Update Days.
> 
> Again, don't be afraid to leave a comment giving me some feedback (be it good or bad!). Also, if anyone's interested in Beta Reading, I'd love to have you. Send me a message and let me know.
> 
> Okay, here it is: The Reason. I hope you enjoy this next installment.

If Miles is going to fix whatever’s going on (and he’s got to do it without getting anyone else involved; he knows that now), he needs to act like everything is back to normal with him and Jax.

Because, of course, it’s not. He can barely even remember what “normal” is _supposed_ to be like. The fact makes Miles’ stomach turn. He clears his head. No fog today. No stomach problems today. Focus on the task at hand: getting Jax back.

Okay, so, first step to fixing things: act like everything’s normal. Go back to being “best friends forever” and doing “best friends forever” things. Like meeting up before school to walk to class together. Perfect.

The next morning, Miles texts Jax bright and early, suggesting exactly that. A huge part of him is ecstatic. Maybe this will work.

He waits for Jax outside of Keaton for a solid ten minutes before he spots his best friend jogging up to the building. “Broseph,” Jax sings, and Miles smiles bigger than he probably has in a few days. Jax seems... _better._ Is Jax better? Are things actually good between them again? Miles tries not to hold out hope; holds out a fist for their handshake instead and Jax returns it with a whole ray of sunshine in his smile. Miles likes that smile, he likes it a lot.

Miles picks himself and his bag up off the bench and leads the way inside the building. “Good today?” He asks, meeting Jax’s eyes.

Jax smiles and turns forward, following him inside. “All good. Was glad to get your text.”

Miles smiles again. Good. _Good._ Things are good. Jax is smiling that smile and things are -

“Yo, Butch. Get out of the way, eh?”

Until some kid gets shoved into a locker, and Jax jumps a five feet in the air.

That _voice_. Where has Miles heard that voice? Is that the same thick, groggy voice that had caught Miles’ attention yesterday in the hallway before Math class? Miles notices Jax tense up next to him, but neither of them make a move to keep Jaron Hopp, the 6-foot-tall, 11th-grade, upright bass player, away from August Olivier, the short-for-her-age, 9th-grade, viola player.

The girl’s viola case and music book fly out of her hands and onto the floor when her back hits the locker. Hopp struts off, smirking, disgustingly pleased with himself. And, August just stands there, back still flat against her locker, seemingly in shock. As soon as the bully is out of sight, Jax races into action. Miles doesn’t think he’s ever seen the boy move so fast. He’s got August’s geeked-out viola case picked up off the floor, and he’s handing it to her gently within three seconds flat. Miles is on his knees, scooping up the music sheets, feeling guilty about his inability to help the kid who got bullied by Hopp the day before.

“Are you okay, August? Let me see your arm. Oh, man, I’m so sorry. That’s bad,” Jax dotes on the girl as she collects herself.

“No, no; It’s fine, but, thanks.” August smiles shyly at Jax alone, and Miles tries not to notice.

“No thanks required, Auggie.” Jax sends back that sunshiney smile that Miles likes, and, okay, _when did these two get so close?_ “No one deserves to be made fun of for how they dress.”

August gives a tight-lipped smile and nods. “Sure, but you and I both know it’s not just ‘cuz of how I dress.”

Miles isn’t sure what’s wrong with how August ( _Auggie?)_ is dressed. She’s got a Blue Jays cap on, a large, grey sweatshirt, and some baggy cargo shorts. Her shoes are pretty cool, Miles notices; they’re neon orange high-top Nikes. Sure, it doesn’t really scream ‘conventional’ but Miles isn’t certain August was going for that anyway.

As if to prove Jax’s earlier point, Mrs. Washington walks past, snapping at August to take off her baseball hat and clapping at some other kid to get his finger out of his nose.

“Amazing what these teachers notice, eh?” August says snarkily, throwing her cap in her locker, revealing short, black hair underneath.

“I know all about it,” Jax replies with a smirk, as if he actually does. “Anyway, here’s this.” Jax pulls the music book from Miles’ awaiting hands and passes it to August. Before they turn to walk to class, August calls, “See you later.” And, Jax doesn’t respond.

As they begin their walk to music class, Miles’ mind circles back to his conversation with Mr. Park yesterday. What was Jax talking to the principal about again? “Appropriate behavior?” Seeing Jax’s face when helping that girl left Miles wondering what “behavior” they could have meant to discuss. It’s obvious Jax would never bully anyone. That isn’t him. So, would they really call Jax into the office for a few arrogant comments in class? If so, why don’t they call Jaron Hopp into the office for the crap he pulls on the daily? He’s hurting plenty more people than -

Things start to get foggy and, under Jax’s scrutiny, Miles scarfs down a granola bar and swallows a pill.

He promises himself to think on it later.

\---

“Miles, are you feeling any better today?” Miss Vijaya eyes the boy’s open notebook, lined with empty page after empty page. Miles shakes his head and looks up at his teacher. It takes a couple of blinks to clear his vision, but eventually, he’s got the right picture. Boy, is that one disapproving look she’s sporting.

“Why don’t you excuse yourself to the bathroom, Mr. Lennox?” She steps aside, and Miles gets the picture. He stands from his desk and exits the Math for Musicians classroom, leaving some fellow classmates giggling in his wake.

Music class hadn’t left anything clearer that morning. Just as he had yesterday, Jax packed his things five minutes before the bell rang and clamored out of the classroom as soon as it did. This time, however, he had given Miles a little wave and promised to see him at lunch. _See_ him at lunch? Did that mean sit together? Or, randomly lock eyes every now and then across the quad like they had for the past few weeks?

In any case, the increasingly confusing situation Miles has found himself is not doing his mind too well.

He stares at his shoes as he walks down the silent hall. If he concentrates on not stepping on the cracks in the tile, his mind isn’t quite so foggy. Right foot, left foot, right foot, small step, big step, miss the crack, took that one, miss. Crack, crack, crack.

You know what rhymes with cracks?

Miles’ head involuntarily snaps up when he hears a door slam and a myriad of voices flood the halls. He contemplates freezing in his place, but he fingers the hall pass in his hand, reminding himself that he is allowed to be here. He turns the corner toward the Student Center and spies Sasha, Kit, and August clustered around the door to the office. They’re in some kind of deep discussion, it seems. Miles - curious as he is - plunders on toward the office door, planning on using the washroom found inside.

Sasha stops him. “Miles, right? Hi, I’m Sasha.” He holds out a hand rather formally, but drops it once Miles doesn’t respond immediately. Honestly, he’s confused. Why is Sasha talking to him again?

“Uh, hey,” Miles finally responds. He’s about to turn back to the door, with the thought that this is the most random group of students in the school. He stops when he discovers that maybe this these kids aren’t random at all. There’s at least one friend these three have in common.

“You’re missing a fourth member. Is he in there again?” Miles points to the principal's office through the glass window. Two meetings with the principal back-to-back would be a new record for Jax. What was the boy doing behind Miles’ back?

“Oh,” August steps up as Sasha’s eyes widen and Kit busies herself with her phone. “You just missed him actually. I think he was going to the washroom.” Sasha smiles widely and nods.

Miles nods, as well, and pushes through the office door. “I’ll see him soon then.” He waves good bye to the group.

Sasha bursts into action and follows Miles through the door. “Not this washroom!” The woman at the front desk shushes him. The dancer throws her a tightlipped apology and pulls Miles back into the hall. “He went to the other washroom. You know, across the school.”

Miles shakes Sasha’s arm off of his own and looks him in the eye with furrowed brows. Sasha looks away and pulls off his glasses, wiping them on his shirt. Miles sees that Kit is still typing furiously on her phone. August has pulled out her music book and is flipping haphazardly through the sheets of paper. None of them will meet his gaze. So, he asks, “Is Jax in trouble?”

As if in answer to his question, Miles hears a familiar _ding_ sounding from the a nearby hallway. He’s jogging toward it before any of the others can stop him, but they’re all hot on his heels. He faintly hears Kit sigh and whisper, “Why doesn’t that kid silence his phone?”

And, then, there’s a _crash!_ and they all freeze, terrified to move.

Miles reaches for his pill bottle before remembering that he’d left everything in his classroom. Feeling empty and unsure, he gulps and turns the corner.

Jaron Hopp’s got Jax pinned up against a locker, spitting some crude phrase over and over again in his face. And, Jax’s _face._ Miles has never seen that look. His eyes are scrunched up tight and his lips are folded in on themselves. He’s shaking his head back and forth quickly, trying to keep himself as far away from the bully as he can. His feet are off the floor, Hopp spits one more word, and the kids burst forth.

August goes for Jax’s phone. It’s laying on the ground beneath where Hopp’s got Jax, shattered into pieces. Kit’s headed for Hopp’s backpack, rummaging through it with fervored purpose, mumbling something like, “I told him not to do this. I told him not to do this,” over and over again. Sasha’s already got his hands on Hopp, pulling him off of Jax with frenzied strength. Miles is frozen. He can’t move. He sees the look on his best friend’s face, wants to save him so badly. But, he can’t move a muscle.

“Got it,” Kit calls somewhere out of Miles’ line of vision. He hears her run across the hall and out of earshot; hears August follow her. Doesn’t look. Can’t look away from where Jax is being held against the wall by some deviant twice his size. This is the worst Miles has ever felt and he still _can’t move._

“Get off me, you queer!” Hopp yells at Sasha assumedly, throwing the boy from his arm. Hopp lets go of Jax, turning his aggression to Sasha now. Jax slowly lowers himself to the floor, taking his breaths slowly, in and out, in and out. Miles mimics him. In and out. In and out.

Sasha backs up against the opposite wall, Hopp following him. “Kit and Auggie have your phone, Hopp,” Sasha informs him and the bully stops. “You know what they’re going to do with it? They’re showing it to Principal Duranni right now.” Hopp steps back twice, hesitancy flooding his features. “What? You don’t have anything to hide, do you?”

Hopp lets out a grunt and, with a singular shove to Sasha’s shoulder, sends him crashing back into the wall behind him. Hopp blunders off to the office, leaving the three boys shaking in his wake.

Jax is on his feet now. Miles watches him hurriedly help Sasha up. “Are you okay?” They ask each other, fretting over one another’s possible bruises and scrapes, resulting in a moment that Miles might actually describe as _intimate_ . Where has Miles been over the past few weeks? Too focused on his illness, on Alya - on Julie, even - to notice that his best friend needed help and was getting it from others because Miles wasn’t around. It _breaks_ him.

Jax mumbles into Sasha’s ear, loud enough for Miles to hear in the quiet hallway, “I just wanted to talk to him, Sasha. I just wanted to-”.

“I know, I know.” Sasha rubs his back.

Miles is _broken_. “Jax,” he finds himself whispering.

It takes his best friend a moment to pull his eyes away from Sasha, but all of a sudden, they’re on him, open wide, pleading for- well, Miles doesn’t know what.

Sasha is backing up and Miles is pulling forward, meeting Jax where he stands. It’s all he can do not to just grab Jax by the shoulders and squeeze the truth out of him. He’s frustrated, he’s upset, he’s heart-broken, but most of all, at the end of it all, he just wants to know...everything. Just wants Jax to tell him the truth.

So, when Jax faces away from him again, faces his shoes, avoids his eyes, Miles does just that. He grasps Jax’s shoulders tightly in his fists and twists his body so their eyes lock. “Tell me,” he hears himself gasp. His voice is barely there. He clears his throat. “Tell me,” he repeats, ensuring that Jax understands him.

Jax sighs deeply, his eyes still pleading, lets out a quiet, “I can’t,” and then, he leaves again. Leaves Miles there in the hallway, open-hearted. Miles hears the office door open and close, and he finally looks up. Sasha is still standing there, looking uncomfortable, shifting from one foot to the other. He approaches Miles, gingerly placing a hand on his shoulder, “Go to class, Miles.”

“No,” and who does this Sasha kid think he is? Miles feels unadulterated anger bubbling up inside of him. “No, you think I’m going to be able to concentrate knowing that he’s in there- _no_. My head’s gonna be all over the place.” He scoffs and turns, headed for Principal Duranni’s office.

Sasha grunts under his breath behind him, “Don’t you have pills for that?” and Miles skids to a stop.

He turns slowly, nostrils flaring, to face Sasha. “Who -” as if he needs to ask - “who told you?” Sasha pulls his glasses off, scrubs them clean again. And, no, Miles was wrong before; _this_ is the worst he’s ever felt.

He’s all but running to the office. Sasha does not even try to stop him. No, he knows better than that.

He begins to count things off in his head; first, Jax begins avoiding him, stops hanging out with him, finds other friends instead; then, Jax tells Miles nothing about being bullied, about being terrified of walking the halls alone, about early morning meetings with the principal; and, last but definitely not least, Jax spills his guts about Miles’ life-threatening disease, the one that almost no one else on this planet knows about, the one that had just about ended their friendship in the first place. Betrayal had many names, but Miles never would have thought that _Jax_ would be one of them.

When Miles bursts through the office door, he finds Jax sitting in a chair outside of where Principal Durrani holds his meetings. Jaron Hopp is inside the room, eyes glued to the floor, obviously discussing “appropriate behavior” with the principal. August’s in the chair next to Jax rubbing his back. Kit’s pacing the floor in front of them. She sees him first, whispering something to the two sitting down in order to gain their attention. Jax’s head pops up and, once again, their eyes lock. Miles is suddenly standing directly in front of his best friend.

“Did you tell them all?” Miles grits out. “You tell them all about me, Jax? Because if you did - if you did this, and if you told them about Hopp, too, before me, then you are a much worse friend than I make you out to be. If you really did this, Jax, I swear -”

Sasha, who had followed him in and is now standing beside him, speaks up, “I tried to stop him coming in.”

Miles shakes his head, says, “Shut up,” much harsher than he should have and, suddenly, Kit’s in his face, forcing him back.

“You wanna come in here, pretty boy-”

“Hey, no one calls me that but him.”

“-you wanna come in here and yell at Jax like you know everything. You know nothing.”

“You’re right; I know nothing. Tell me something, somebody.”

“And, you don’t get to mess with Sasha either, eh?”

“Kit, it’s fine.”

“No, Sasha, it’s not. I’m not okay with this guy thinking Jax is his property, or some shit.”

“He’s been my friend way longer than any of you!”

“Yeah, well -”

“Guys, please.” It’s August’s voice that finally breaks them up, but also something else. Jax is sniffling, rubbing his nose on his sleeve, and hiding his head in his hands. “You guys know this is exactly what he didn’t want.”

Sasha and Kit apologize, but Miles can’t find his voice to reply. He made Jax cry. _He_ made _Jax cry._ He’ll never forgive himself.

“Jay…” is all he can say.

The boy in question wipes away tears gently with his sleeve and meets his best friend’s eyes. He stands up, but stays silent, just quietly looking at him. The next few moments leave Miles rethinking every life decision he ever made. He must have done something truly horrible to deserve being the target of the heart-breaking look Jax is sending him right now. His eyes are puffy, his cheeks are stained red, and the helplessness found upon his features is almost palpable. Miles doesn’t know what else to do but to turn around and leave.

He begins to do just that. He’s caused Jax enough grief for a lifetime. With one final apologetic look, Miles turns to go and, suddenly, Jax is lunging for him and Miles is melting immediately into his embrace. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jax is whispering again and again, and Miles can’t think of why Jax would ever need to apologize for anything. “I shouldn’t have told them. I should have told you. I’m sorry.” And, oh yeah, right. Well, that’s fine. It’s okay. As long as all of their arguments end this way, everything is absolutely -

“It’s okay, Jax. We’re good.”

Jax pulls away then, but he doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against Miles’ and one hand folds up into a fist on Miles’ chest. They’re silent again for awhile, just breathing in each other’s air. Jax looks up to meet Miles’ gaze and he’s about to say something, he’s got the word “I’m...” out before Principal Durrani’s door opens. Upon hearing the noise, Jax jumps back to separate them.

“Jackson, if you’ll join us, please.” Principal Durrani beckons Jax in with one hand. Miles can see Hopp glaring at the two of them through the window, a look that can only be described as pure disgust gracing his features. Jax heads for the door, but Miles still has one of his hands held tightly in his own. Jax brings his other hand forward to loosen Miles’ grip and tells Miles sincerely, “I’ll tell you everything. Soon, M. I promise.” Miles finally lets go and watches his best friend exit into the principal’s office. Kit, August, and Sasha are all three sending him matching looks of trepidation. He shakes his head, but nothing clears. All he knows for certain is that he’s never felt farther from Jax than in this moment.

\---

There had been no explanation that day. Miles - along with Sasha, Kit, and August - had been asked to go back to class by Mrs. Denez, one of the secretaries of the front office. She gave them signed notes and sent them on their way. The other three all promised each other a text if anything was found out, and Miles demanded to be included in this. After a few hesitant looks shared, they agreed and exchanged numbers. Miles kept his hand glued to his cell phone all throughout classes, but it didn’t move. Not one text, not one call. He bit his fingernails down to the bud and took two more pills.

\---

Nothing that night, either. Miles usually has trouble sleeping, but tonight, sleep is impossible. He rolls around in bed all night, relenting to send a few texts Jax’s way every now and then. He even texts Sasha to see if he knows anything new around 2:15 a.m., thinking that if the dancer is as invested in this as he, himself, is, he’ll still be up, too. Sure enough, ten minutes later, he gets a response from Sasha, reading “ _Sorry, nothing. I’ll let you know, though, Miles._ ” He doesn’t hear from anyone else all night, least of all Jax.

\---

The next day, Miles walks into music feeling more tired than he has in weeks. When he woke up that morning - after a short four hours of restless sleep - he saw that one singular text had graced his phone. And, it was from Jax of all people. He almost fell out of bed from grasping at his phone so quickly. It read, simply, “ _Music class is super important today. Don’t be late._ ” So, even though every fiber in his being was telling him to give his body a break and take a sick day, he rolled out of bed and plundered on through his day.

Miles takes his regular seat and scans the classroom for a familiar face. He finds that Jax is not here yet and neither is Alya, but Bianca’s filing her nails in a seat behind him. “Seen Jax yet today?” Miles ends up asking her, desperate to know _anything._

Bianca sends him a funny look and points to Mr. Park’s office in the corner of the room. Miles can see his teacher sat in a chair, feet up on his desk. Jax is sitting on a stool in the corner of the room, his backpack still slung over his shoulder. Whatever they’re talking about doesn’t seem too serious, but still, Miles wonders why the privacy of Park’s office is necessary.

Once the bell rings to signal the beginning of class, Alya’s sitting next to him, chatting about some new show on Netflix that she _knows_ Miles has never seen. It’s about aliens or monsters or something; Miles can’t be bothered to actually pay attention to her once Jax and Mr. Park exit the office. Alya moves to get out of Jax’s seat, but Jax ends up staying directly in the center of the classroom with Mr. Park instead of coming to take it over. Alya looks to Miles for an explanation; she looks just as confused as he feels.

 _Music class is super important today,_ he reminds himself. Okay. Here we go.

“Hey, kids,” Park addresses the class, clapping his hands together. The class slowly quiets down to a murmur, obviously all confused about Jax and his position next to their teacher. “I wanted to open class today with something very important. It doesn’t really have much to do with you as musicians, but it does have to do with you as people. Mr. Gardner.” Park steps back and sits at his desk, handing over the class to Jax. Miles leans forward in his seat.

Jax takes a breath. “So, how many of you have been bullied?” There’s no movement or sound in the classroom for at least five seconds. Slowly, hands begin to rise throughout the room, and soon, almost every student’s hand is in the air, including Miles’. They listen quietly as Jax goes on.

“Wow, okay. That’s almost everybody, huh? Wow.” Jax suddenly seems to realize how important this conversation actually is. He breathes again. “Now, how many of you have been bullied for something you can’t change?” As classmates begin to think about their situations, a few hands fall, leaving only about half of the class with their hands still raised. “Hmm. Sucks, doesn’t it? Like, what are you supposed to do in that situation, you know?” There’s a hint of a shy smile on his face and he looks down at his shoes. He’s nervous, Miles observes. Whatever he’s going to end up saying is definitely important. “Well, here’s what you do: you find people who understand. You find friends who can not only help you, but who know exactly what you’re going through. You tell your parents - I know it seems tough, but they’ll help you. You find a place to go where you feel safe. Wherever that may be. But, most of all, you _have_ to tell people.”

Miles feels himself growing sick. _Jax couldn’t tell him Jax couldn’t tell him Jax couldn’t tell him._

“Sometimes, though, that’s way easier said than done.” Jax turns back to Mr. Park who gives him a thumbs-up to continue. Jax faces the classroom again, looking less than confident. He plunders on, “A few weeks ago, I. I...uhm. Well, I started going to meetings for the Gay Straight Alliance club we have here on campus.” Jax’s eyes find Miles’ for a moment, but they glance away quickly. “I was...I had kind of started to question feelings and stuff like that, so I wanted to see what it was all about. Well, this older kid who never really liked me very much found out and used it as a reason to start harassing me. We’re talking text messages, anonymous phone calls telling me to go to hell, calling me out on the internet. I wasn’t super bothered at first. My biggest concern was that people might find out before I was ready to tell them.”

Miles sinks low in his chair.

“But, the bullying didn’t stop there. This kid started getting violent with me; shoving me into lockers, slamming doors on my face, pushing me to the ground; that kind of stuff. It was getting bad; really bad. But, I still didn’t feel comfortable telling anyone yet. That’s where the friends come in.”

Miles sees a few heads turn to face him in the classroom, but he simply bites his lip and waits for Jax to go on.

“I met some great people in GSA who knew exactly what I was going through. Not only with my...my sexuality, but also with the bullying. They convinced me to finally tell my parents. After that, things didn’t get better right away, but at least the most important people in my life know and are trying to help me now.” Jax doesn’t even hide looking at Miles this time. He even sends him a gentle smile. “Anyway, the point of this whole rant is that bullying sucks, but - you all saw - it happens to almost everybody. So, keeping your mouth shut is, frankly, kind of stupid. Even if you don’t know it, there are people out there who want to help you, but they can’t help you if you don’t let them. That’s it, I guess.”

The class actually claps for Jax. Miles starts it, but then Alya and Bianca join in and soon, even Mr. Park is clapping. “Thanks for that, Jax,” Mr. Park says, giving the boy a pat on the back.

“Thanks for agreeing to let me talk,” Jax responds, and Park smiles, sending him to his seat.

Jax doesn’t look at Miles as he makes his way to his seat, but Jax is all Miles can see. He’s proud of his best friend, immensely proud. He’s also still upset and frustrated and angry, and he doesn’t know why. Jax told him everything (Jax told everyone everything actually). Why isn’t it good again? He still feels...wrong.

“You good, bro?” He hears Jax whisper next to him.

“Can we talk after class?” He hears himself whisper back.

Jax shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Miles sees him nod. And, that’s that.

\---

Class is over and for once, Jax does not beat everyone in a race for the door. He waits behind, sitting still in his seat. Some kid comes up to him and gives him a fist bump. Others congratulate him as they walk past. Bianca plants herself directly in front of his seat.

“So, was that you coming out back there?” Miles stops packing his bag and sends her an accusatory look.

“Already, Bianca?” Alya shoves past the girl and pulls her by the hand out of the classroom, leaving Jax and Miles to themselves.

“Okay,” Jax says. “Go for it.”

“Okay,” Miles sighs and replaces Bianca in her spot facing his best friend. “Why couldn’t you tell me?”

Jax looks at him, confused. “Is that the problem?”

Miles nods once. “That’s the only problem.” He sits and pulls the chair close to Jax’s own, leaning into him. “Jax, I hate it. I hate it so much that there are things you don’t think you can tell me. I want to know why this thing was so important. Why didn’t you think you could tell me that you were getting bullied because you’re...gay or whatever?”

With a heavy sigh, Jax turns to Miles, face-to-face, “Have we ever talked about gay people, M? Have we? Have we ever discussed the reality of homophobia in our society today or television's lack of the use of the word bisexual or asexual erasure in the gay community? I don’t think we’ve ever talked gay rights or anything having to do with LGBT+ people at all. I didn’t know your stance on it. I was scared that -  well, you know.”

Miles shakes his head. “But, Jax, you’re not just some gay guy I know; you’re - you’re Jax. You’re my best friend. What, did you think I’d hate you or something?”

“I didn’t want to risk anything. This friendship -” Jax pauses, letting things sink in, “- your friendship is the most important thing in the world to me, Miles. Losing you - losing that would suck.”

“You could never lose me.”

The words out of Miles’ mouth before he can take another breath. And, he’s never said anything truer. Jax is more than just a friend, Miles realizes. Jax is Miles’ _person._ He’s his _somebody_. The person who he can tell everything to; the person who wants to listen because he cares and because Miles’ problems mean something to him. The one person in the world who hates the thought of losing him just as much as Miles hates it himself.

“Never, Jax, okay? You’re one of the most important people in my - No, fuck it; you _are_ the most important person in my life, got that? Losing me? Not an option.”

And, Jax looks like he believes him. For a second, there is a twinkle in his eye, and Miles gasps because he thinks he’s made Jax cry again.

“You mean all that, man?” Jax asks, staring at his hands shyly.

“More than I’ve ever meant anything, probably.” Miles surprises himself by the truth behind his words. He understands the importance of this conversation and knows that the whole truth is the only way to go.

The two boys are kind of quiet for awhile. They just sort of let themselves...exist amongst each other. It’s simple and intimate, the way they sit together silently in that classroom, and Miles loves every second of it.

“Next time I’m scared of something,” Jax eventually speaks up, looking at Miles again, “I’m telling you right away. Literally. Right away. Doesn’t matter the time, the place; I’ll find you. And, I’ll tell you.”

Miles chuckles lightly at his best guy. “Good. And, then, maybe we can just cut right to the hugging-it-out bit and skip the part where I yell at all your new friends.”

“Eh, they’ll survive.” Jax lets out a giggle of his own, but it cuts short. He suddenly gains a more serious persona, placing a calming hand on Miles shoulder. “I’m sorry I told Sasha about your kidney thing. That was stupid of me. For so long, I thought he was the only guy I could talk to about anything, and personal stuff just starting slipping out, I guess. I also told him about that time I accidentally pissed myself at your house.”

Miles - in spite of himself and the hurt he felt over Jax telling Sasha his deepest secret - bursts into exuberant laughter at Jax’s statement. “Yeah, you laugh -” Jax goes on and Miles continues splitting his guts - “but, he went on to tell everybody the story at school the next day. While I was right next to him. Great stuff. Great friend.”

Beginning to contain himself, Miles regains (most of) the serious composure required for this conversation. “Hey, I wish you hadn’t told him; I’m being honest with you. But, it’s nothing to get into a fight over. Not after yesterday.”

Jax nods and thanks him. “Jaron Hopp was suspended, you know. He might even be expelled. I wasn’t the only kid he bullied. Hopp had, like, 16 conversations on his phone between him and random students at the school; it was just full of evidence. I don’t think he ever would have stopped if Kit hadn’t have showed his phone to Durrani.”

“I’m glad she did, then.”

“Me, too. I’m glad I don’t have a reason to lie to you anymore.”

“Me, too.” They pause again, and it’s _important._ “Jax.”

“Miles?"

“Are we…?”

There’s sunshine in Jax’s smile when he meets Miles’s eyes. “We’re good. We’re very, very good.”

The embrace they share is better than yesterday’s. It’s better than any hug they’ve ever had because - this time - it stands for something. It stands for their renewed relationship, for trying again, for importance, and for everything they never wanted to lose.

“Hey, Jax?” Miles asks when they finally separate. “Who’s Beau?”

Jax gets this funny look on his face. And, Miles feels...strange.

“Coming to Kit’s party on Saturday?”

“If you are.”

"You'll meet him then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr at isakyaxi :~)  
> And, coming up next: The Party.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles should listen to Jax more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, one Chapter Three coming up! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Please leave a comment or kudos to let me know that you did! I don't want to feel like I'm putting all this work out there for nothing. I really appreciate everyone's feedback (be it positive or negative). Don't be afraid to keep it coming!
> 
> Interested in getting a look at these chapters before anyone else and telling me what you think? Message me on my tumblr (isakyaxi) or just leave a comment down below and we can get you set up! I love to have Beta readers.
> 
> With all that said, enjoy Chapter Three!

“Miles, you came.”

Miles nods at the birthday girl making her way towards him, sharing a tight-lipped smile.

“And, you brought Alya.”

The blonde in mention jogs through the door of Kit and Scarlet’s home behind him, waving in the shy friendly way that she does.

Kit’s house is utterly empty except for the four of them. Scarlet is taking up an entire corner of the room, bopping around colorful balloons and looking awfully bored. Kit gestures to a snack table graced with pizzas, sodas, and various chip bags and says, “Help yourselves. People you know should be here soon.”

“Thanks for showing up on time,” Kit’s sister sings sarcastically from her corner.

Miles looks around at the Dunn’s living room. They live in a modest home, he notices. The room is fairly snug, a full sofa stuffed on one end, and a large entertainment center covering the other. There’s some music video playing on the 55-inch screen, but the sound is turned down almost all the way - which seems kind of counter intuitive to Miles. Some DJ covered in a full costume - from head to foot; no skin is showing at all - is gracing the video, hyping up some invisible audience. Miles recognizes the artist at DJ Diamond Mind - someone Jax talks about constantly.

Speaking of the best friend - where is he? It was Alya’s idea to get to Kit’s party the very _minute_ it started, and Miles hadn’t been too fond of that idea, himself - and his theory was proved to be correct. Teenagers are never on time (least of all, Jax). Miles’ real purpose for coming to this party is to spend more time with his best pal, but Jax needs to actually _be at the party_ in order for that to happen.

When Jax had left his house this morning after spending the night, he’d told Miles that the “coming-a-little-later-to-the-party” thing was probably a good idea. But, here Miles was. And, obviously, Jax was...well...not.

“Should I have brought a card or something?” Alya asks, causing Miles to break from his reverie and look up at her. She was unwrapping multiple chocolate Kisses and popping them into her mouth one by one.

“Jax said he’d get it,” is his reply, hoping that Alya tagging along onto the gift will be okay.

“Aww, isn’t that sweet? A gift from Jax and Miles. Miles and Jax. How perfect,” his friend plugs back.

“And, Alya now.” She shuts up, smiling smugly at him. He shakes his head and looks around for something to stuff into his mouth. Did he bring his pills to this? Of course he did; it’s, like, the law or something. Miles pulls the small pill bottle from his back pocket and, as Alya munches away distractedly, he pops one quickly. Or, was that two? He can hardly tell. As he swallows the medication, he realizes that this is the first pill he’s taken today. Jax left as soon as they woke up this morning, so he wasn’t there to remind him to take a pill after breakfast (his parents had work in the mornings, so they were out, too). He’d been alone all day and just hadn’t thought about it. Or, hadn’t needed to? Today was a pretty good day. Did Miles’ medication intake directly correlate his mood? Interesting theory, Dr. Miles. His head hurts.

Anyway, once he decides that thinking is a bad idea right now, Miles goes back to waiting. And, waiting. Alya sulks quietly next to him, sipping a cup of some kind of soda, and the room is so quiet that Miles doesn’t think he’s ever been this uncomfortable in his entire life.

Everyone jumps five feet in the air when a resounding yell of “KIIIIITTTT!” is heard from outside the house. The small girl in question jumps out of her seat slumped on the couch and runs to the door, more excited than Miles has ever seen her.

She pops it open and Jax comes blundering in, engulfing her in a bear hug. They stay like that for awhile, just giggling and whispering jokes back and forth. Behind Jax is a young man that Miles doesn’t know and is almost sure he won’t like.

_Beau._

He sure is something to look at. He’s tall (Miles is sure the guy has at least half-of-a-foot on him and closer to 8 inches on Jax), he’s got olive skin and this terrific bush of curly hair pulled back into a bun. He’s obviously older than them, but Miles can’t figure out by how much (he’s got one of those faces), and he’s holding the door open for - holding the door open? Oh, fantastic; he’s polite, too. Great. This is the best day of Miles’ life. His head pounds. He takes a pill.

When Jax and Kit finally break apart, she goes to hug Beau. Once again, Miles wonders when all this bonding was taking place without him.

Sasha and another unknown guy stumble in the open and waiting front door eventually and - wow, this dude must be Beau’s twin (or relative, at least). The two boys look so much alike that Miles thinks he might be seeing double (but, this could be because his vision had gotten terribly blurry once Jax tumbled into the house). Then, suddenly, Beau’s arm is around Jax’s shoulder, and Miles is standing up to introduce himself.

“Hi,” is all he decides to say when he walks up to them, and everyone’s eyes slowly turn to meet his.

“Miles!” It’s actually Beau who speaks up first, disentangling himself from Jax and holding out a hand to the boy. Miles grabs it. “I’m Beau, Jax’s beau.” And, Miles drops it.

“You just couldn’t wait to use that one, could you, bro?” The other Beau pipes up (confirming Miles’ suspicion about the relative thing), and the original Beau shrugs with a chuckle.

“I’m Remi, Sasha’s Remi.” Beau’s brother grabs Miles’ hand firmly just as the original had. Miles notices Sasha’s proud smile and wonders if these two brothers have everyone under their spell.

Well, it seems as though they certainly have overtaken Jax. The boy is smiling brightly, eyes glued to Beau’s face, not glancing toward Miles even an inch.

“This guy has told me all about you, best friend,” Beau grabs Miles’ attention once again, tossing another arm around Jax’s shoulder.

“Jax has kind of kept you quiet, boyfriend.” Miles knows his odd sense of jealousy is evident in his voice but, it’s like...he just can’t _help_ it. Why does this guy get to saunter in all of a sudden - all unbeknownst - and have Jax close to him, be on the receiving end of _that smile_ , and rob Miles of Jax’s affection? Wait. _Attention_. Miles means attention. Maybe that’s not even much better.

Jax clears his throat, speaking his first out-loud words of the night, “Sorry, Miles, I just - well, you know. Anyway, these are the twins.” The two boys flash an identical smile. “They’re also Auggie’s - August’s cousins - that’s how we met them.”

“How’d you meet August?” He finds himself saying, because - he reminds himself - he doesn’t actually _know._ He has an idea, but it’s not clear. Everything should be clear, once and for all.

“Okay, so, we pretty much all met in GSA club,” Sasha decides to explain. “Well, those of us who go to Keaton. Beau and Remi are in Grade 11 at Poleen High.” Miles recognizes the name of the public high school across town from Keaton. “But, anyway, yeah. GSA is where Jax and I met, and where we met Auggie, and where we met Kit. Sorry for keeping you in the dark for so long, Miles.”

Miles smiles and nods slowly because, honestly, that’s _nice_ of Sasha.

However, now Miles’ suspicions are confirmed: all of these friendships were gained from his absence and Jax’s inability to trust him. Great. He should probably let it go, but it’s hard, okay? It’s really hard to know that if Miles had been there for Jax always - if he had stopped being so preoccupied with girls and school and his illness - then maybe Sasha wouldn’t have been needed, and then maybe August, and then maybe Beau. And, Remi, too, of course.

But, mostly, Beau. And, Miles doesn’t know _why_. He’s angry. He’s annoyingly, incoherently-

(Unwarrantedly)

_-Angry._

And, stupidly, he acts on it.

“So, everyone’s gay now.” The anger is there - extremely present in his voice.

There is complete ( _utter_ ) silence for a full 15 seconds. Miles is counting.

“Happy Birthday to me, huh?” Kit eventually speaks up, not making any move to quiet her complaint. And, okay, yeah: Miles deserves that. But, he doesn’t say anything. Why doesn’t he say anything? His head _hurts._

“Look, Miles: I’m sorry if you felt -” Beau begins, but Jax stops him with a hand on his chest.

“They got Mountain Dew over there at the snack table,” says Jax.

“But, Jax.”

“Just get me some, Beau.”

Beau heads off eventually - slowly - not bothering to hide his discontent for Miles at the moment (no one else does either, he realizes).The others follow him, desperately trying to change the subject to something lighter. Miles hears Sasha begin to discuss his gossip blog’s analytics with Kit, but she seems quiet. Beau pours two cups of Mountain Dew and downs one of them completely before the pounding in Miles’ head subsides even a little bit, and Jax finally slinks up to him.

“If you ruin this party for Kit -” are the first few words Jax utters, and Miles steps back because he’s so close that Miles can smell his cologne, sickly sweet and warm (it’s the cinnamon-apple one; the one that he _likes)_ \- “If you even _think_ about ruining this party for Kit, I’m never telling you anything ever again.”

With those heart wrenching words, the space that Jax had formerly taken up in front of Miles is empty, and Miles is left alone.

He can’t move. He can barely think. There is some kind of fire burning up his stomach and his head is pure smoke. A few weeks ago, Miles was everything to Jax. Yesterday _, (this morning!)_ Miles was everything to Jax. Jax never stopped being everything to Miles. He doesn’t know when the switch was flipped in Jax’s head, but he knows that Beau has something to do with it.

The anger bellowing up inside of him is so strong that he can’t think straight, so he swallows three pills and resolves to make this a night to remember.

\---

“How about Spin The Bottle?”

Everyone in the room snaps their eyes up to glare at Miles. He hasn’t said much since the _Incident_ with Jax, and he’s almost sure some of the party guests just assumed he’d checked out for the night. He’d just about decided that leaving the party was probably a good idea, but that was before Jax snuggled up to Beau on the couch across the room and Miles downed the last of his meds. Now, he’s a little mixed-up and plenty blissful, and leaving the party is the farthest thing from his mind.

Sasha clears his throat, but before he can say anything kind to let Miles down easily, August (who had arrived shortly after the others, carrying about five bags of presents for Kit with her) jumps onto the defensive swiftly. “Don’t be stupid, Miles. This is Kit’s birthday party.”

Miles isn’t sure what her point is. “I’m not sure what your point is."

Alya - who (bless her) had been the only guest to stick by him over the difficult night - squeezes his hand in her own. He stares down at their linked fingers because he’s not sure when they got like that. “Miles,” she says, getting him to meet her eyes, “not a good idea.”

“Why not?” He responds. “Let’s spice this party up a bit.”

“What, one girl not enough for you, Miles?” The ever-lovely Scarlet chirps from her corner where Julie Mislani had eventually joined her. Miles notices Julie give him a shady side-eye glance before turning back to the book in her hands and swallows deeply.

“Come on; everybody loves Spin the Bottle! Besides, I’m tired of just sitting here. Let’s do something!”

He watches Jax give him this irritated look from across the room and sees his lips move to form the words, “Miles, what’s wrong with you?” But, they don’t really mean anything. His pills ran out about half-an-hour ago, and he’s running on pure fog. Right now, the night is young and nothing sounds better than kissing someone (especially since Beau snuck a quick peck on Jax’s lips about 26 minutes and 43 seconds ago, but Miles has all but forgotten that even happened).

“Miles, seriously - are you okay? You don’t seem like yourself,” the girl next to him whispers. Oddly enough, he can’t think of her - Alya! That’s right. It’s Alya’s hand that’s still gripped tightly in his own, it’s Alya who’s leaning her head on his shoulder in order to get closer to his ear, and it’s Jax who’s sitting next to his boyfriend across the room. Right.

“I just want to do something...if that’s okay with everybody!” Miles realizes that it’s time to stand up. Find something to do. Sitting is boring. Sitting is boring. Sitting is - what’s the word? You know, when something isn’t interesting you anymore? Anyway, he just doesn’t want to sit right now, okay?

He reaches behind him to feel around in his back pocket and panics for a second because his pill bottle is gone. His friend next to him asks what he’s doing again. “I don’t know where my meds went.” He’s panicking - he knows that - but he can’t calm himself down without the pills. That’s a big problem, now that he’s lost them.

In his rush to find the missing pill bottle, Miles finds himself tripping over a forgotten board game box on the floor. Usually, he’s a bit more sure of himself and of his balance, but today is not a _usual_ day. Today is a day that Miles will remember forever, just like he wanted it to be. Suddenly, he is laying flat on the ground and there are hands touching his arms gently and he _knows_ those hands. He _knows_ that touch. Doesn’t he?

There’s a blurry face in front of him with these gorgeous brown eyes that are really distracting him from his task at hand which, of course, was to - well, he was trying to - uhm. He was doing something, he’s sure of it. He just can’t remember what. The brown eyes have this mouth right below them that is so nice that Miles can’t stop staring at it. The lips are slowly opening and then closing again, and Miles understands that means this person is saying words, but none of the words seem to be meeting his ears.

The pretty eyes and pretty mouth guide him to his feet and make him sit down in a chair and - no, that’s not what he wanted to do. However, Miles is just about positive that he wouldn’t have any problem doing whatever this person tells him to. He can feel their tight, wound-up hands gripping into his shirt and he knows something is wrong, but his vision isn’t focusing on one picture. This is the moment when he would usually take a pill, so he begins trying to find the bottle.

“Jax, I can’t find my pills.” He hopes his best friend is somewhere nearby. He’s the only one who knows about his illness, right? Miles can’t remember if Alya knows or if Beau knows. Does Beau know anything about him? Why is Beau’s name sticking so profusely in his mixed-up head?

Miles notices that the pretty lips in front of him are facing downward into a frown and he wonders what he did to make the person sad. Or, mad. He’s been doing that a lot lately. He wants to make this person feel better, so he tries to get up; tries to stand in order to show this face it’s okay to smile. Miles is okay. He’s fine. He’s all good, promise.

But, when he stands (and the hands on his shirt are pinching his arm, they’re gripping it so tightly), his head begins to spin fifty miles an hour and he hits a surface beneath him _hard_. Now, all Miles sees is shimmering colors, a horrible blinding light, brown eyes, and then nothing. He smells cinnamon, and everything goes quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, my tumblr is isakyaxi. come hang out with me!  
> And, coming up next: The Hospital.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles is caught between dreams and reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Chapter Four is coming early this week! Tomorrow is going to be a very busy day for me, so I thought that I would just get all of this done today instead.
> 
> I want to give a big thanks to my lovely beta Jeraya (JKelly). She's been helping me so much, and these chapters would not be complete without her feedback. You rock, pal!
> 
> I also hope this chapter isn't too confusing. There are a few shifts between reality and Miles' dream-scape, and I'd hate if they were difficult to decipher.
> 
> Please please please leave a comment and kudos if you enjoyed. I love to know what you guys think. Your feedback encourages me and helps me to keep writing! School is going to be starting back up soon and I'd hate to get caught up in that. You readers make me want to continue despite being busy!
> 
> Thanks again for the read, and I sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter.

“I think it’s time to go, bud.”

These are the first words of which Miles can make any sense. He doesn’t know how much time has passed. He doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t even know who said the words. His eyes won’t open. He’s tired. He’ll probably just go back to sleep now.

Then he hears more words, and they make sense, too.

“I can’t leave him.”

“It’s been three hours, bud. We promise to call you when he wakes up.”

Miles wonders if these three strangely familiar voices are talking about him. He decides to test out opening his eyes again, just to see if his vision has gotten any clearer. Just to put some more puzzle pieces together and figure out what put him into this particular situation.

His vision is resolutely black. His eyes are shut tight and he can’t seem to pry them apart. He wishes he had stayed asleep.

Along with his hearing, it seems as though his sense of touch is also coming through for him. Miles can’t move his arms very far, but feeling around a bit with his fingers makes him realize that he’s in a bed. Someone else’s bed. It’s not his own bed. His own bed is topped with a shaggy afgan that his mother thinks he adores. He mostly just tolerates the itchy piece of material because she had worked so hard making it for him. The sheets covering this bed are thin and cold. In fact, the whole room is cold. It’s almost as if wherever he is lacks warmth entirely - you know,  _ human _ warmth. It’s really, very  _ cold _ .

It’s then that Miles remembers he’s got one more sense that he’s not putting to use. He breathes in through his nose silently and lets out a quiet gasp.

Jax is here.

It’s that cologne. That cinnamon-apple one that Miles likes so much. It fills his nostrils with that horribly sweet smell, and Miles knows he’s got to be close by. He continues to suck in air through his nose to try and pinpoint how close (or far) Jax is to him, but, suddenly, cinnamon-apple cologne is all he can smell. It invades his nostrils roughly and Miles lets out a haggard cough. He hears a voice again, feels a familiar nimble hand weave it’s fingers through his. Miles’ eyes still won’t open, but he knows exactly who is there with him.

“Miles.”

That’s another voice, deep and thick with grogginess, as well as with age. It’s a voice he’s know for so long that he doesn’t need to question it.

“Honey, we’re here.”

This voice is high, quick, loving. So familiar that he almost lets out a tear. He’d hoped that she would be here, but she works so much lately. They both do.

There’s a rough hand on his shoulder and another, gentler one gripping his free hand. The three most important people in his world, coming together because of him. He  _ needs  _ to open his eyes.

They won’t open. He tries and tries and  _ tries  _ so hard. But, now his head is pounding, and sleep overtakes him again. The last sound he hears is his mother softly crying.

\---

The next thing he feels is hot sand between his toes.

His eyes open.

He’s on a beach. Some secluded, quiet island in the middle of a vast ocean. There is a shady palm tree beside him, a snapping crab maneuvering around his feet, and Miles knows that this is a dream.

It feels so  _ real.  _ The cool ocean breeze brushes his unruly bangs to the side, sweaty and tangled with the heat and slight fatigue. His bare chest glows bright red and he brushes a cool hand against it. His stomach is hot to the touch, soaking of the sun’s harsh rays. Before his eyes, and when exposed to the burning sun, his hands shift color. They alter from a healthy blush to a radiant ruby as he looks on, blazing against the midday light.

Miles moves a bit to left to stand underneath the forgiving palm tree, and he no longer feels as though he is being set ablaze. The pain of his sunburnt chest and hands recede, and he finds that he can lounge comfortably in this increasingly strange dreamland.

It all means something, but he can’t figure out what yet.

“Hey.”

His head turns slowly to face the voice, and he’s not surprised to see Alya seated next to him. This feeling - he can’t quite put his finger on it. It’s almost as if she had been there with him the whole time. They had been there together, as two meshed hearts, exploring this new world hand in hand. It feels nice. It’s not a bad feeling at all. It’s not complete by any means, but it’s comfortable.

“Hey,” Miles responds to the pretty blonde.

She smiles at him genuinely, and, yes. Miles could be happy like this. He could be happy (comfortable) with Alya, with this palm tree, in this safe place. It’s not complete, whatever they have, but he could definitely be happy with this life. He likes Alya, he’s always known that.

“I like you,” so, Miles tells her as much.

“I know you do.” Alya grabs his sunburnt hand and it cools at her touch. The redness of the burn does not subside, but the pain isn’t so excruciating anymore. She’s helping him, little by little. He could live this way. He could.

Miles hears a loud crash of waves from the vast ocean waters and turns to look. He hears laughter; a laughter that he knows so well; a laughter that he has grown to love so deeply because he doesn’t hear it very much anymore.

The boy in the water - the laughing boy  - looks at Miles and grins with every ray of sun in his smile. It hurts to look at, so Miles glances away. He looks at Alya. He’s supposed to look at Alya, right? He likes Alya. He does. He could be happy with her.

“I like you,” Alya reminds him. There’s forcefulness in her brow. She is determined now. Miles likes when Alya fights for what she wants. He likes Alya. He could be happy with her.

But, the boy.

The boy is laughing more. Louder. Fuller. It’s so grabbing that Miles can’t help but stare. The boy splashes some, smiles some, laughs some. Miles can’t look away. He stands up.

“Miles.” Alya grabs his hand, but he doesn’t look. The burning does not subside, not even a touch. It does not cool. It warms. With every look at the sunshine boy in the water, the burning grows. Yet, Miles cannot stop looking.

“I like you, I like you, I like you.” It’s a mantra on Alya’s soft lips. The words puncture his heart. She likes him. And, he likes her, doesn’t he? He could be happy with her. He could never hurt her like this.

But, as he contemplates a choice, his attraction toward the laughing boy grows. He almost feels a magnetic connection, like he’s being pulled in a new direction. One he’d never thought of before, but one that has always,  _ always  _ been present in his mind. It isn’t that this boy is a boy. It’s that this boy is  _ this  _ boy. He is adventurous and happy and wild and free. He’s goofy, funny, sweet, loving.

Miles knows this boy.

“Jax,” whispers Miles into the safety of his shaded palm tree.

Alya lets his hand go, and Miles steps out from the shade.

The first step is the hardest. The sun’s rays are heavier and more evil than they had been earlier. Each footstep forward is deliberate. Every move he makes is a choice to press on.

The harsh burns on his arms and chest feel like they may light ablaze at any given moment. Beads of sweat form on his brow, pushing him to stop, to head back for the safety of the palm tree, for the safety of Alya, but he presses on for the boy. For Jax. He  _ chooses _ to press on for Jax.

Jax smiles at him even brighter than before and Miles’ chest begins to ache with want. He can’t get to the water fast enough. He feels a shortness of breath creeping up through his lungs and he fights to breathe. He needs to make it to Jax.

“C’mon, Miles! C’mon!” Jax shouts at him excitedly. “The water is so good here!”

Miles is moving as fast he can. The endless blue waters grow and grow before him, almost menacingly. Miles wonders at how Jax doesn’t even notice that he is being swallowed whole.

“Jax, you come here,” Miles calls to the boy. “It’s not safe there.”

Suddenly, fear overtakes Jax’s face. Miles watches as the dark water envelopes Jax’s lower half. Jax looks like he wants to get as far away as he can, but he doesn’t move. Miles calls to him again, tells him to come to the beach, but his voice is scarce. His throat stings from exertion and his head is pounding from the heat.

Yelling to be heard over the chaos, Jax responds, “Miles, I can’t. I’m scared.”

Miles is scared, too. He’s  _ so _ scared. He fantasizes of the safety of the palm tree. No burning sun, no harsh breathes, no rolling waves. If he and Jax can just get back to the palm tree, everything will be alright.

But, neither of them are moving.

Miles suddenly finds his knees engrossed in hot sand. It burns into his limbs, but he cannot stand. The pain is almost too much.

Jax is frozen in the water. Miles does not understand why Jax won’t just take the plunge and press onward towards the shore.

They both fall still from fear and exhaustion. Miles does not move. Jax does not move. They stare at each, miles apart, but so, so close. They could have done it. They could have been happy with each other.  _ Together.  _ But, the fear was too great.

Panic overtakes Miles, and he closes his eyes.

\---

And, he opens them. His frenzied dream fades into nothingness as soon as the real world comes into view.

Okay, so. He’s in a hospital. He feels the same thin sheets from earlier lying underneath him. The same cold, empty, non-itchy sheets and knows that he has been here for awhile. For how long, he doesn’t know. He almost remembers what got him here. It was something about -

“Jax,” he says aloud. It’s almost a call. Jax said he wouldn’t leave earlier, but did he?

A thin, womanly figure comes into his blurry line of vision, and yes, this is fine, too.

“Mom, why am I here?” The question is not out of surprise. He frequents the hospital more than he would care to admit to just about anyone. He simply wants to know what brought him here this time.

His mother lets out a relieved sob and almost jumps onto the bed in her rush to hug him. His throat stings (and his head is still pounding), so he gently pushes her away, sending her what he hopes is a comforting smile.

“Son, you passed out at your friend’s party.” His father is there, too, seated on his other side. He claps a rough hand to Miles’ clothed shoulder.

Miles’ memory is starting to clear up a bit. He remembers the feelings of jealousy, anger, hurt. He can feel the aching in his bones rising to his head. It pounds with remembrance. And, something else.

“Did I hit my head?” He asks.

His mother lets out another cold sob, and his father replies gently, “When you fell the...second time - we think - you did hit your head on a coffee table. That’s the main reason why you fainted.”

The main reason?

Do his parents know that…? No, they couldn’t know. He passed out because he fell and hit his head. That’s the reason. They wouldn’t know.

They wouldn’t know about Jax. About the jealousy, anger, hurt. About why he got so woozy. About why he was able to fall so easily. They couldn’t know. Not yet.

Miles’ mind travels to Jax’s voice heard earlier; to Jax’s familiar cologne. He wonders if he stayed like he said he would. The room is uncomfortably empty of cinnamon-apple smells. “Is anyone else here?” is what he finally ends up voicing.

His mother and father send a silent look to each other. His mother regains herself and takes Miles’ hand.

His father stands from his seat on the bed. “I promised Jax I would call him when you woke up,” says Dad. “He’ll be in school, but I’ll call him.”

“School? What day is it?”

Another look. His dad exits the room, phone in hand.

“Hon, it’s Tuesday.”

The party had been on Saturday, hadn’t it?

“I’ve been out all this time?”

Another deep breath. “You woke up for a bit on Saturday night, do you remember?” He did. “That’s it. You’ve been quiet ever since.”

Now,  _ that  _ had never happened before. A coma? Really? The most that he had ever spent in the hospital was one night, and he had been awake the entire time. What’s different this time?

Miles knows exactly what’s different this time. The last few times in the hospital, he hadn’t been abusing his pills.

“Miles, honey,” and his mother’s voice is so quiet, so hesitant. He’s never heard her like this. “Have you been abusing your pills?”

“No.”

It’s a knee-jerk reaction. He hadn’t even voiced this fact as truth to himself before ten seconds ago. This isn’t something that Miles is ready to accept as his life. He isn’t one of those people. The only reason that he has been taking more pills recently is because his life has been all over the place. He’s been extra tired, vision has been blurry, migraines are getting stronger and stronger by the day. He tells his mother as much.

She lets out an exhausted chuckle and gives him that harsh Mom look that causes him to glance away. “Miles, the true reason you fainted was because of being knocked out, but Dr. Jelish said you were on your way to an overdose anyway.”

No, she’s lying. That isn’t true. He’s not one of those people. One of those people who self-medicates because their lives are  _ so _ hard. That isn’t him. No, he’s fine.

“I’m fine now, Mom. It wasn’t on purpose or anything, you have to believe me.”

“The doctor -” it’s hard for her to get out. She coughs harshly with the heaviness of it - “she suggested a psychiatric consultant, Miles.”

He feels a weight on his chest that won’t let up. “And, you believe her? You think I’m crazy, don’t you, Mom?”

“It’s not a bad thing to need help, honey.”

“I’ve already got enough shit going on in my life -”

“Miles, please.”

“I don’t need to deal with a ridiculous diagnosis on top of everything else.”

“I thought you liked Keaton, sweetie.” She sounds guilty.

He can feel a hardness growing around his heart. It burns. He’s suddenly imagining painted beaches, rushing water, a laughing boy. He shakes the images away.

“Mom, just trust me when I say that I’m okay. Whatever that doctor said doesn’t matter. I know me, and I’m okay.”

“Okay,” his father enters the room again, closing the door softly behind him. “Your buddy’s gonna swing by after school. How’re you feeling, Sport?”

There’s a heaviness flooding his brain, and he doesn’t want to think about anything but cold skin, blonde hair in the breeze, and shaded palm trees. It’s  _ easier _ .

“Whatever,” he finally responds to his dad who gives him a disapproving look. “I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten in days.”

“Actually, they fed you through this tube-”

He addresses his father rudely again, “Just get me some real food, okay? Please. I’m starving.”

His mother shakes her head, about to respond harshly - Miles can tell - but his dad pulls her away. “Not now, sweets. Give him his time,” his father consoles her. “We’ll be right back, kiddo.”

His mind feels heavy and dark. Food is the farthest thing from his mind.

He’s asleep again before the door closes behind them.

\---

The party is in full swing.

He doesn’t know how Kit found herself in his lap, but she giggling gleefully with something other than casual happiness. Auggie and Remi are playing one of those  _ Dance Dance Revolution  _ games and are really disappointing everyone with their embarrassing lack of hip-hop rhythm. Must run in the family, Miles thinks to himself with a small chuckle.

Miles watches dreamily as Jax speeds into the living room, carrying three bottles of Mountain Dew rather impressively. How is he doing that? His best friend is great.

For some reason, that label doesn’t seem to fit here, but Miles shakes the odd thought out of his head.

Jax dances over to Miles and Kit expertly and plants himself directly in their line of vision. Alya is whooping loudly somewhere in the background, but all Miles sees is Jax’s furrowed brow.

“Excuse you, Kit,” and Jax’s voice is fifty miles away. Jax makes an odd, jumbled-up expression, but it’s gone in an instant. “You took my seat.”

Kit is joyfully sitting next to Miles within a quarter of a second and is replaced by Jax in almost half of the time. Jax is sitting in his lap. Why does this feel so...normal?

“That’s my boy,” is what Jax says and Miles likes it. He...wait, he  _ likes _ it? He likes being called Jax’s boy. He likes Jax being this close. He likes the sense of cool running through his arms where they wrap around Jax’s waist. This is comfortable. And, nice. And, good. It’s all of those things, but it is also  _ complete _ .

“My boy,” Jax goes on. He plants a sweet kiss on Miles cheek, and it, too, cools at the touch. “My boo.” Jax giggles at his silly comment, and Miles joins him out of pure glee. “My... _ Beau _ .”

And, then, the room is set ablaze.

No one notices. Alya goes on hyping the dancers with flames lighting up her chest. Remi and August jump and trot over lava engulfing floor like some twisted kid’s game. Kit’s mouth is set alight with one sip of her fiery red drink. No one notices that the world is coming to an end. That  _ Miles’  _ world is ending before his very eyes. Least of all Jax.

“My Beau, my Beau, my Beau.” The words repeat continuously on Jax’s lips and Miles can’t hear anything but the licking flames climbing higher and higher.

“But, I’m Miles,” he tries helplessly.

Jax lets out a humorless chuckle. “That’s not nice, Beau. Don’t compare yourself to  _ him  _ of all people. We can do better.”

The flames travel higher and higher, engulfing almost the entire living room. The smoke floods his lungs making it increasingly difficult to breathe.

Jax is chuckling in his ear, menacingly. “ _ Who needs Miles?” _

He is trapped. Trapped in this world where he doesn’t exist -  not to Jax. He is not Jax’s boy. Miles is not Jax’s boy. Beau is Jax’s boy.  _ Beau. _

The scariest part of this world is not that it’s so different from reality.

This world  _ is  _ reality.

\---

He jumps to full-awakeness, feeling more terrified than he has in weeks. His dream is ever-present in his mind. He still feels the heat, the sweat beading down his face, the flames destroying everything he loves.

He almost runs when he hears his voice.

“Miles, you’re awake.”

He almost runs. He does. But, the immense feeling of calm that overflows his body at his voice is too ridiculous to ignore. He’s in deep. He doesn’t know what that means yet, but it means something. He’s drowning deep in rolling waves, hot sand, torturous flames, open wounds, sunshine, and everything else that scares him so much. Is this his life now? Had it always been? Ever since he met Jax on that first day of school, was his life destined for difficulty?

And, yet, at these horrifying thoughts, he can’t imagine wanting it any other way. He wants to be Jax’s boy. He  _ does _ . More than anything.

“Jay,” his breath evens out when he finally meets his boy’s eyes. Those beautiful, forgiving, goofy, sweet, loveable eyes. Jax smiles at the nickname, and Miles stares at the sun, full-on.

“Hey, M. How ya feeling?” Jax asks. He scoots the chair closer to Miles’ cold hospital bed. Warmth envelops it as Jax’s awkwardly lays one hand on top of the thin sheets. Miles does not hesitate to wrap it up in his own. Jax stares down cautiously at their intertwined fingers, but looks happily surprised when their eyes meet again.

“I’m good, Jax. I’m so happy you’re here.” And, he  _ is.  _ He’s so happy that Jax is here when he makes this terrifying discovery about himself. He wouldn’t want anyone else there instead of him. And, he’s not wasting any time.

“Can we talk about the party?” He asks and Jax’s expression turns from excitement to concern quicker than a blink. Jax nods slowly - mutters out a quiet, “If you want,” - so Miles goes on, “I need to apologize to you. Again.”

Jax’s eyes go wide. “No, no, man; what? No, you don’t have to apologize. After what the doctor lady said about what you had been doing…? No need to apologize.” He pauses for a moment, but Miles can tell he has more to say. Miles squeezes his hand to let Jax know that it is okay to continue. Whatever Jax needs to tell him is okay. They tell each other everything. “I just don’t know why you didn’t tell me.”

And, Miles feels like a hypocrite.

Here he was - just a moment ago - ranting (in his head, to be fair) about how Jax could tell him anything. There would be nothing too harsh, too rash, too tough for Miles to understand. Yet, Miles thinks that Jax wouldn’t understand a little unadulterated jealousy and hurt? Of course Jax would understand. But, maybe that’s not the reason why Miles hasn’t told him. Maybe he’s scared.

He’s definitely scared.

He presses on, anyway.

“Can I tell you now? It’s big.” Miles’ freehand wrings tightly into the soft sheets and Jax watches it intently. Miles can tell that he understands the gravity of the situation.

“Tell me. Please.”

It feels interesting to be on the receiving end of that plea. Miles feels like - for the past few weeks - that  _ he  _ has been the one pleading with Jax to confide in him. To let him know what the problem is. And, now it’s his own turn. He can do this. It’s Jax. His boy. He can do this.

“I guess I was...jealous.”

It’s a strange sentence to say. He hasn’t once voiced out loud what has been bothering him. There’s a little part of him that’s  _ relieved _ that this secret is almost out. It’s freeing and exciting to have everything said aloud.

There’s another part of him - a bigger part of him - that feels as though he has never been this terrified in his entire life. This is big. If he says what he wants to - if he outs  _ everything _ completely - it could change their relationship forever. It might change it in a good way. It might make Miles the happiest person in the world.

But, there’s a bigger chance that everything will go wrong. Jax will leave him forever. Jax will laugh at him. Jax will wonder why Miles ever thought that he ever had a chance.

Jax will go back to Beau.

All of these things are very present in his mind, but he presses on. “I was jealous of your friends. Of your boyfriend. I didn’t like that they came around and changed everything. It felt like...like -”  _ here goes  _ \- “it felt like they were taking my place, Jay. Like  _ he  _ was taking my place.”

Jax’s hands tightens slightly in his own. Miles is vehemently  _ not  _ looking at him, finding a stray thread in the sheets much more interesting at this moment in time. He curls it around and around his finger three times before Jax finally responds.

“That’s how you really feel, M?” Jax’s voice is barely above a whisper. It almost sounds as though he is choking on his words. His voice is scarce.

Miles decides to nod, still staring intently at the cold fabric.

Jax’s hand is suddenly holding his chin, gently lift his head up to look at him. “I need to know-” Jax’s takes a haggard breath, “-exactly what you mean, Miles.”

“You know.”

“Do I?”

“I think you do.”

“Can you just say it?”

Miles doesn’t know if he can. This is because - while he’s never felt hurt, jealousy, and anger like he did at the party over any other person - he’s never felt this kind of connection with anyone but girls before. There have been cute boys and sweet boys in the past. However, none of those boys made him feel anything close to what he feels with Jax. Does that mean something? Miles isn’t sure if he could just be jumping to conclusions. He didn’t like some other guy taking his place at his best friend’s boy, so that meant...what? That Miles is attracted to said best friend? Not necessarily. Suddenly, he realizes that this was definitely not as good of an idea as he thought it was. His head starts to pound. His hand slips from Jax’s and rubs his fatigued brow. “Now, Jax...now, I don’t know. I don’t know anything,” Miles finally responds.

Jax looks guilty. “Sorry, man. I shouldn’t have pushed you. You should rest.”

But, Miles still doesn’t want Jax to leave. He says as much.

“I don’t have to go, M. We can just talk if you want. About school or something. Sound good?”

“Yeah. Good.”

Ironically, for more than a minute, neither of them say a word. It’s weird now, and Miles hates himself for it. So, gingerly, he slips his hand back into Jax’s. “Is this okay? If we just, like-”

“Yeah, man. All good.”

They hold hands like that for the rest of Jax’s visit. They talk sporadically about how angry Kit is with Miles (“Not much anymore. You know, after you passed out and all.”), about Alya (“I just don’t know anymore. I mean, I like her. I do. But - well, you know.”), about Beau, too (“He’s a cool guy, M. I like him. But, uh...I don’t know, man. He’s not - I don’t know.”). And, it’s good. Things are fine. The terror that Miles had been feeling subsides. Calm and cool rush over him again.

This is the Jax he had been missing. This is the Jax Miles is willing to have while he figures things out. Just for a bit longer. And, then, maybe they’d be ready for something else.

But, until then, this is definitely good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hang out with me on tumblr @ isakyaxi :~)  
> And, coming up next: The Club.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are many different types of "Jax Gardner"s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so, do you hate me? Cuz I hate me. You know what else I hate? LACK OF INSPIRATION AND MOTIVATION TO WRITE.
> 
> Anyway, excuse that outburst. Here is (finally!!) another chapter of this gosh-forsaken fan fiction. This one is a little filler-ey, but it was what I came up with, so I figured that I would just publish it as is.
> 
> Also, thanks again to my AMAZING betas: Lily and Jeraya (JKelly on here; check out her stories, guys, seriously). Let me know if YOU would like to beta! Always open to new buddies :))
> 
> If it makes you happy that I finally got off my lazy butt and wrote something, then leave me a comment telling me so! Honestly, (not to make yall readers feel obligated or anything lol) but I feel like there's no reason to continue a fic if no one's interested. So, if you're interested, please please plEASE LET ME KNOW. This is literally me begging for kudos and comments. ANYTHING. I'm desperate.
> 
> Anyway (x2), I hope you enjoy this chapter, whatever it is. Let's goooooooo!

Miles spends two more of his days taking blood tests and laying aimlessly in a hospital bed. Jax visits both days and the two best friends sit and talk for hours. They chat about MineCraft, guitar, class, Alya and Bianca (and Beau, a little). Jax has to be kicked out of the room both nights for staying past visiting hours. Miles’ parents make comments about Jax seeing more of their son in the past few days than they have. Miles and Jax just giggle because it’s been so long since things have been this _good._ They’re grateful that they’ve finally gotten back to this place. It feels like going back, but it also feels like a clean slate. There’s something new in the air, and Miles welcomes it in, whatever it is. They don’t address it. Miles isn’t sure it’ll ever be addressed because he likes it, but he’s still scared. Always scared. That his doctor will walk in on him and Jax holding hands and get the wrong idea. That his dad will start to look at him differently when he sees how close his son and his best friend are. That his mom will try to sit him down and give him the “It’s okay to be gay!” talk. Because he’s not gay. He does know that for sure. He likes girls. He likes Alya. He’s liked Julie - and plenty of other girls - in the past.

But, he also likes Jax.

That’s a new thing. That’s something that he’s still coming to terms with. He’s not sure. He’s kind of sure? He - he honestly has no fucking clue what he feels.

The strangest thing? It’s still a _good_ feeling.

He’s _happy_ with Jax there beside him. Holding his hand sometimes. Talking about anything and everything. Laughing and joking. Just like it used to be, but with just the hint of a possibility of so much more. He never wants it to end. But on Thursday, he’s getting discharged, and Jax arrives in his room, looking much happier and much less weary about facing the New World than Miles feels.

“Happy Discharge Day!” Jax waves his hands erratically. He plants himself on Miles’ bed. “You’re not dressed,” he notices, gesturing at the familiar blue gown hanging from Miles’ slender shoulders.

“Yeah,” says Miles, albeit a bit lackluster. His mom dropped off a pair of jeans and a v-neck that morning, a gaping wide grin on her mouth. She’s been a lot more positive since Tuesday night, making no more moves toward a therapist which Miles was very pleased about. This was just a one-off, and he knows it. Now that Miles is aware of how negatively he tends to react to things, he’ll be more careful.

Even as he thinks these words, Miles itches for his pill bottle.

Jax regains his friend’s attention with a sharp tap at his knee. “Why not? You not excited? You get to go back to Keaton tomorrow!”

Sighing, Miles sits up a bit in his bed. “Well, I guess I just - I like how things are right now. With us, you know. I don’t want anyone to - I mean, any _thing_ \- to mess it up.”

Jax gives him this disappointed-but-not- _really_ -disappointed look and shifts around to grab Miles’ clothes from the bedside table. “Hey, mister. We’ve talked about this.” He hands Miles’ clothes to him, who takes them gingerly. “We’re good, remember? We’re good now, and we’re still gonna be good at school. Putting all stupid shit behind us, right? Nothing’s changed.”

Thumbing the hole in his blue jeans nervously, Miles replies, “No, I know, man. It’s just-”

And, suddenly, Jax is grabbing his face and pulling it toward him. Miles leans into him, holey-jeans forgotten in his lap and his hands find their way to rest on Jax’s forearms. The expression on Jax’s face is definite - “Hey, I mean it. We’re good.” - and his tone is _even more_ definite. Miles realizes that his best friend _does_ mean it. They’re good. They’ve probably never been better than this; faces close, eyes never leaving each other’s, mouths inching _even closer_ without a thought. Without a realization or true understanding of what is really happening between them. It even seems like - like it’s supposed to be this way. Their inching-together faces is the natural next step. They’re   _so close_ . Miles realizes he’s leaning in. And, he _wants_ this. So bad, it’s -

_Brrrring!_

Jax jumps back about a foot and stares aimlessly with wide eyes for a split second. With a shake of his head, he begins to fumble around for his phone, tirelessly searching his pants pockets and the rumpled bed sheets. Miles is dumbfounded, but eases himself back into a lying position.

Jax is mumbling, “Sorry, man. Sorry. Who’s - ? I mean, where’s my - where’s my stupid -”

He locates his phone on the floor, just inches from being under the bed entirely. Jax scoops down to retrieve and seems to take a breath before unlocking it. The boy gets this odd expression on his face before typing a speedy reply. He breathes again once the phone is safe and away in his pocket. Only then does he finally meet eyes with Miles again.

Still he doesn’t say anything. Just looks for a minute. It’s obvious that Jax has got an idea about what’s just happened between them. But, strangely and for some unknown reason, Miles would like very much for it _not_ to be addressed. Where would they go from there? He’s not ready. He’s just. He’s _not ready._

So, when Jax starts, awkwardly, “So-”

Immediately, Miles interrupts, “Who was that?”

Taken off guard by the interruption, Jax takes a moment to reply, “Uhm. No one. It was Sasha.”

Miles lets out a light-hearted chuckle with attempts to rid the room of the awkward air it currently possesses. “Was it ‘no one’? Or Sasha?”

Jax shakes his head at the silly comment. “It was Sahsa. He wanted to know why I wasn’t at GSA today.”

Right. GSA Club. Jax was a part of that. Actually, wait -

“How did elections go yesterday?”

Jax sends him a smile for remembering, and states casually, “I got it.”

Actually, Jax is apparently the _president_ of the Gay Straight Alliance club on campus. Miles remembers back to a month ago when he didn’t even know that Keaton had one of those. Oh, how things have changed.

“Woah, congrats, dude,” says Miles enthusiastically. He really is proud of his friend; knowing how much Jax craves validation for all of the hard work he has put in to get to this place reminds Miles that his best friend deserves this spot.

“Yeah, thanks. I’m super excited. The only thing is - “ Jax pauses for a second to raise his head, gauge Miles’ reaction. “The only thing is that means I’ll have club meetings almost everyday after school. Not a lot of time to - you know - hang out or anything.”

“Oh.” And it leaves Miles’ mouth before he has time to think. “Well, can I come?”

“You want to come - “ Miles’ best friends pauses to contemplate the thought - “to my Gay Straight Alliance meetings.” Jax nods as if he’s processing, but doesn’t make a move to indicate that this is a good idea or a very, _very bad one._

So, Miles presses on. “Well, yeah, I mean - it _is_ right there in the name. Gay _Straight_ Alliance, right?”

And, okay, maybe not his finest moment.

But, give the poor boy a break. What was he supposed to do? Come out to Jax right then and there? Tell him that maybe the real reason he wants to come to GSA is because he’s got some of those “questioning-type-feelings” that everyone keeps prattling on and on about? And, hey, Jax surprise, surprise! Those feelings are for him!

Yeah. Miles isn’t ready for that, remember?

But, isn’t this just the perfect excuse to check things out, play the field a bit? Test out if things might actually pan out in his life if Miles were to ever...come out as whatever he actually is. Maybe they’d have an explanation. There are more sexualities beside gay and straight, right? GSA would be the perfect place to go.

Straight is just an excuse. And, he thinks maybe Jax is picking that up from the cloudy look covering his best friend’s face.

“Yeah, of course you can come, man,” Jax says, and he clears his throat and ruffles a hand through Miles’ hair.

And, that, folks, is how Miles finds himself standing outside the Keaton Room 54 classroom door on the very next day, rubbing his hands together with extreme trepidation.

Jax comes up behind him and gives his shoulder a playful shove. “You _know_ all these people, bud,” says his best friend. “They’re gonna be no different in there than in class. If anything, they’ll be cooler ‘cause they’re more comfortable. I know I get like that.”

That makes Miles look up. “What, you’re ‘cooler’ in there? What’s that mean?”

Jax gets this sly grin on his face that Miles feels less than comfortable seeing. “Miles, Miles, Miles. Get ready for a side of me that you have _never_ seen before.”

With that vote of confidence, Miles pushes through the classroom door.

\---

And finds that Jax was absolutely right.

Not thirty minutes later, Miles has become intensely familiar with a Jax who takes charge. A Jax who speaks incredibly articulately about hate crimes and queerbaiting; things that Miles had barely any idea existed. Jax talks about heteronormativity, gender and sexual identity; he doesn’t say “uhm” or “like” more than twice. Miles feels as though there is no better place in the world for Jax than this club.

But, when the speeches are over; when the applause has died down and the atmosphere returns to just a bunch of kids hanging out, a whole other Jax reveals himself to Miles - a more comfortable one. And, he’s not too sure about this one.

It starts when Jax clears his throat and says, “Alright, old business. Hot people around school. Sasha, hit it.”

Sasha says, “Tyson Jockey from Chem is hot and probably has a six pack.”

Jax says, “Oh, Tyson _does_ have a six pack.” His mouth forms into that same knowing smirk from earlier, and everyone lets out a flirty, “Ooooooh!”

Sasha demands, “Tell me!” but Jax makes a gesture that he’s zipping his lips on the subject. His face says everything Miles would ever need to know, though. He feels strangely jealous of Tyson Jockey - a boy whom he has never heard of in his entire life. Miles kind of wants to go to the gym, too, which is weird.

August mentions Hope Gomez and Anayis Hartford, the two girls who fight over first chair violin in Orchestra.

Sasha says, “Okay, new business! Hope and Anayis are _literally_ in a secret relationship.”

Kit tells Sasha to stop assuming people’s sexualities. “It’s harmful, and those girls could get hurt, you know?”

Sasha bets on when they’ll finally be coming to a GSA meeting anyway; he _swears_ that he _literally_ caught them making out last week.

Kit says, “Ew. Please be sensitive. Making out is disgusting.”

This launches a conversation about whether or not sex is necessary to a romantic relationship. Kit - who is asexual, apparently (she slapped Miles - literally _slapped_ him when he asked, “Wait, like a plant?” And, Jax had a _looooong_ talk with him) says it’s not. Auggie says it _obviously_ depends on the person, but sex can be a beautiful thing in the right context. Jax is nodding his head and agreeing with her like he knows everything there is to know about intercourse. Miles hasn’t said a word in - he checks his phone - 20 minutes.

There’s a third instance where Jax and another boy in the club, Amir - who Miles did not know at all, but received a bear hug from upon entrance that day - start chatting about Miss Vijaya, Miles’ math teacher, and how her personal relationships are going.

“Oh, yeah; they’re definitely married now,” Jax says as he types furiously on his phone. He’s been glued to the thing for the past 15 minutes, and - with a quick look over Jax’s shoulder every now and then - Miles can see that he’s texting Beau. He hasn’t brought himself to actually read the texts as that seems like a step too far - even for a best friend.

He rids his mind of the idea and turns his attention to Amir, who speaks up, “Really? That’s fantastic! But, how do you know?”

Jax glances up from his phone for a moment to answer Amir, “I saw a picture of her and her wife. They looked real happy.”

“Awesome!” August excitedly responds. “Always feels good to watch a sister happy. Why isn’t she being open about it, though? 2016, right?”

“The whole ‘gay teacher’ thing is still taboo for a lot of people,” Amir assumes with a solemn nod from Jax. “She's probably afraid she could get fired.”

“You know, Miss V didn’t even have her wedding picture out on her desk?” Jax states, phone forgotten for the moment in his lap. “She keeps it locked inside, ‘cause she’s so afraid of somebody disapproving.”

“That’s some bullshit,” Kit mumbles, and August makes a “mmm” sound of agreement.

It’s still not all coming together for Miles.

“If she keeps the picture locked inside her desk, how did you see it? And, you don’t even take Math for Musicians, Jax. How do you know Miss Vijaya?” Miles finds himself speaking up for the first time in a while.

Jax looks up to address Miles. “Miss V is the admin for GSA. Did you not know that? Yeah, I asked if she had any pictures of the ceremony a couple days ago after a meeting.” He chuckles a little and returns his gaze to his phone. “I almost forgot you were here, man.”

_Great._

It’s pretty silent after that. Miles watches Kit struggle to hide her laughter and tries not to hate her for it.

Before Miles is presented with yet another opportunity to be terrified of his surroundings, Jax lets out a frustrated grunt and jets from the room, phone at his ear.

August reels back with wide eyes and speaks up first, “What was that about?”

So, Miles clears his throat, “Well, he was texting, uh, Beau.”

“Makes sense,” says Sasha, letting out a heavy sigh. “They’re going through a rough patch.”

Kit scoffs at him and lets out a: “Don’t gossip,” but the class ignores her better judgment.

“What? What do you mean?” Amir asks, and Miles swears that the boy’s eyes slip to catch on him for a split second before turning away again.

Sasha shrugs. “Nothing. Just that Jax _literally_ broke up with Beau _over text_ yesterday.”

Kit and August let out a collective, “What?!” while Amir emits nothing but a sharp gasp. The rest of the club seems shocked, as well. And, strangely enough, all eyes turn to him.

Miles furrows his brow in confusion. “I don’t know anything about it.”

“Didn’t say you did. You were just,” Sasha shrugs his shoulders, “with Jax when he did it.”

With him? Miles racks his brain for a time when this could be plausible. Jax was with Miles at the hospital yesterday from the time he got out of school to when visiting hours were over. Did Jax make any grab for his phone during that time at all? Miles can’t recall.

Oh, wait.

“He said he was texting _you_ about GSA, though,” Miles finally remembers.

August lets out a small chuckle. “Jax tends to lie to you about things that pertain to Beau.”

Kit emits an exhausted: “Auggie.”

August glances over with a look that explains that she’s uncertain of what she’s done wrong. “Just saying.” And, then, quieter, “He should probably know.”

“Who?” Kit responds, harshly. “Miles or Beau?”

“I think Beau _already_ knows,” quips Sasha.

“Knows what?” That’s Amir.

Sasha sighs. “Everything.”

\---

Miles doesn’t mention it until he and Jax are leaving GSA, heading back to Jax’s for a much needed MineCraft gaming sesh.

“You and Beau,” he starts awkwardly, trailing behind Jax a bit. Jax stops his trek down the sidewalk and turns to Miles with an inquisitive look on his face. Miles continues with a clear of his throat, “You guys okay, or…?”

Jax sends him a tight-lipped smile and continues walking, “Naw, we broke up.”

Miles follows Jax, measuring his patience by the look to his countenance. Jax seems comfortable enough; his shoulders are drooped instead of rigid and tense, his arms swing lazily at his sides instead of wringing together tightly, his mouth is turned up at the corners - a small smile instead of a frown. Miles decides it’s okay to ask: “Why?”

Jax gives a curt shake of his head and shrugs his shoulders, “Just...wasn’t feeling it anymore. I never get to see him, you know. So, it - it didn’t feel right.”

“That it? That’s not a reason to break up with someone.” Miles continues to press his best friend for more information. Gently, Miles places a hand on Jax’s forearm to get him to look his way, “Remember, we tell each other things now, right? I don’t want you lying to me about Beau anymore. I hear you’ve been doing that.”

Jax looks at him. _Really_ looks at him for a long stretch of time. It’s probably only a good minute or so, but it feels like an eternity. Miles does not look away because he knows that Jax is testing out just how much he can trust Miles.

Finally, in a quiet voice Jax responds, “There’s somebody else.”

_Brrrrring!_

Miles lets out an exhausted sigh. Foiled by a text message twice in as many days. He scrummages for his phone in his pocket while Jax is left to glance away awkwardly.

Once Miles retrieves his cell, he notices the text is from an unknown number. He thinks about just leaving it, but something tells him to open it anyway. Just _open_ it.

He does. The text simply reads: “ _It’s Beau. We need to talk, Miles._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hang out with me on tumblr @ isakyaxi :~)  
> And, coming up next: The (Ex) Boyfriend.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beau's not all that bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Here we are. I've become that fic author who only updates like once a year. Whoops, I suck.
> 
> But here's another update, so don't be too upset with me! I still really love this fic, and I'm doing my best to stay motivated to write. I won't give a time, though. I know better than that.
> 
> Once again, absolutely must give a shout-out to my two fantastic betas, Lilly and Jeraya. I'm so grateful to have yall on board with this mess. Believe me, readers, these chapters look a lot better once those two have had a go at them.
> 
> Thanks to all my lovely and loyal readers. I love all of your kudos and comments. You make all the frustration and writers block worthwhile.
> 
> With all of that said, let's get into the chapter!

Miles glares at his empty coffee cup, and it mocks him. The feeling is eerily familiar.

He pulls his head up to once again check the door of the little Starbucks nestled in the corner of their big city, and  _ once again,  _ his pursuit is unfruitful. His  _ pursuit of locating a certain ex-boyfriend  _ is unfruitful _ ,  _ to be more specific. Because it’s - Miles checks his watch - twenty minutes after their meet-up time, and the elusive Beau Donaldson has still not shown up.

This fact is serving no purpose but to make Miles feel increasingly nervous about the nature of said “meet-up”. Beau had not offered Miles any information about why he wanted to talk nor what exactly it was that he wanted to talk to Miles about. Their text conversation had gone as follows:

Beau:

_ “It’s Beau. We need to talk, Miles.” _

Miles:

_ “hi. what about?” _

Beau:

_ “Are you busy Monday at 4? If not, let’s meet at the Starbucks across the street from Poleen.” _

Miles:

_ “ok” _

Beau:

_ “Also, how are you feeling after the party? Better?” _

Miles:

_ “yeah, i’m cool. thanks for asking.” _

Beau:

_ “No problem. It was scary what happened, you know.” _

Miles:

_ “yep, it was” _

Beau:

_ “Okay, see you Monday at 4.” _

Miles:

_ “guess so” _

And, that was it. There was actually one more message sent in the conversation. It was from Miles, it was sent 10 minutes ago, and it read, “ _ you coming to starbs?”,  _ but there had been no response.

Miles chastises himself for neglecting to press for more information where it was clearly necessary, but to be honest? The whole issue of Beau and Jax’s relationship (or, now, the  _ lack  _ of their relationship) has always served to make Miles feel inexplicably uneasy. Miles simply cannot put his finger on the why, but something about Beau makes him feel unsure, uncomfortable, out-of-touch.

He hates to say it. He hates to even  _ think  _ it, but is it possible that…? No. He couldn’t be, right?

To be completely honest, Miles is terrified that he might be homophobic.

He can’t explain it any other way. He’s fine with Jax on his own. He’s fine when it’s just the two of them hanging out (in fact, Miles prefers it that way). However, as soon as Beau had stepped onto the scene, everything had become jumbled up in his head, leaving him confused as to what anyone’s true intentions were - even his own.

And, of course, there is a part of Miles’ brain (albeit, a small part) that knows exactly what the problem is - what the problem has always been. He’s known it for certain since those dreams in the hospital, really. Miles was jealous. Miles had feelings for Jax. Jax had a boyfriend.

And, Miles was jealous.

It’s all very simple to think. Not so simple to say out loud. Nor to accept. Nor to even acknowledge.

The smart part of his brain knows the solution to every single one of his problems. It’s the  _ realistic _ part of his brain that thinks fully realizing this solution will cause even  _ more  _ problems.

Anyway - Miles reminds himself - none of that matters if Beau is coming here to confront Miles about it. Because if Beau has realized that Miles is hiding his feelings, then Miles can no longer hold onto hope. Something about Beau knowing seems like the end of everything.

Although, Miles does kind of feel that way about  _ anyone _ knowing.

What would happen to them if Jax found out? It would be the end of them because Miles cannot imagine a world in which Jax chooses him.

The Starbucks door swings open and a gush of wind follows the two entrants in. Miles jerks up immediately because there’s a moment where he thinks that Beau has finally arrived. But, it’s not Beau. Just his twin.

Sasha Roy the Golden Boy and his beautiful boyfriend, Remi, have just found their way into the coffee shop, and Miles - wait...did Miles just describe Remi as  _ beautiful _ ?

It takes a lot of uncomfortable staring on Miles' part (had a boy ever  _ looked  _ that way before? This is weird) for Sasha and Remi to finally notice Miles at the secluded table in the corner of the coffee shop. As soon as they do notice him, Sasha is making his way over to Miles (while Remi exits to the washroom to Miles' inexplicable delight) and calling, “Miles, hey!”

Miles readies himself for the Sasha Roy charm that he’s come to know so well. He sends the approaching boy a smile and kicks out the chair across from his own, inviting Sasha to sit. Best to be amicable, even if Miles is almost positive that Sasha doesn’t like him - or at least doesn’t trust him with Jax. Ever since Sasha made those accusing comments about the two of them in GSA last Friday, Miles has become weary of the boy, trying his best to seem aloof. So, he acts like his whole world isn’t crumbling around him and says, “Hi,” to Sasha Roy.

Sasha sits himself in the chair across from Miles and folds his hands on the table top. “So, Miles,” he starts, as if addressing a conference room full of business workers. “You’re supposed to be meeting Beau Donaldson here today. Where is he? Washroom?”

Taken off-guard (but not surprised, if he’s being honest), Miles coughs into his forearm before answering, “He’s not here yet. How did you know about that?”

Sasha gives a flippant wave toward the washroom where his boyfriend is. “Remi told me.”

So, Beau told Remi, and Remi told Sasha. Does that mean -

“Does Remi know what Beau wants to talk about? Because I have no idea.” Miles feels a slight pang of idiocy. The only one out of the loop yet again.

With a rough chuckle, Sasha responds matter-of-factly, “Well, you and Jax are getting very close, Miles.”

“We’ve always been close,” Miles deflects. Miles deflects very quickly. It’s almost a reflex, it happens so fast.

“You know what I mean. It’s not your fault for having a crush. Crushes happen to the best of us. It  _ is _ your fault for pursuing a boy who is already seeing someone.”

“I never pursued Jax.”

Sasha laughs in that  _ way  _ he does. “Miles, please,” Sasha says. “We  _ all  _ see the way you look at him. Whether you’ve actually been pursuing Jax or not, it’s none of  _ my  _ business. But, look -” Sasha leans forward in his chair - “It’s pretty obvious that there’s something going on there. You know it, I know it, and - more importantly - Beau knows it. I’m just warning you to watch your back.”

Miles feels his skin crawl.

Sasha adjusts himself in the chair. He’s aware of Miles's anger - Miles can tell - and yet, Sasha presses on anyway, “Jax had a boyfriend whom he liked very much and was very happy with before you knew anything about it. Now, you’re back in the picture, and all of a sudden, Jax doesn’t have a boyfriend anymore.”

Miles wants to yell. He clears his throat and instead speaks very quietly, “Sasha, I didn’t do anything to make Jax dump Beau. Alright?  _ Nothing.” _

Then, over Sasha’s shoulder, Miles notices Remi returning from the washroom. He pulls back from where he was unknowingly leaning forward in his chair and clears his throat again - this time to alert Sasha of his approaching boyfriend. It works, and suddenly, Sasha is leaning back too, a much sweeter and more genuine smile gracing his lips now.

Upon approach, Remi pulls a third chair up to the small table and returns his boyfriend’s welcoming grin. “Hey, there, Miles. Good to see you again.”

Miles can only let himself nod slowly in recognition.

“Did I interrupt something?” Remi asks, his eyes flitting back and forth between the two boys at the table.

Miles doesn’t respond. Instead, he watches Sasha across the table, waiting for him to make a move. Eventually, Sasha’s eyes meet Miles. They look...different now. More genuine. Almost regretful.

“Miles,” Sasha starts, hesitantly. “I’m sorry about those comments I just made.”

Remi looks to Sasha questioningly. “Did you ask him if…” Remi trails off, implying that they had had this discussion previously. Sasha makes a face that suggests he had done exactly what they had agreed not to do. Remi sighs, disappointment clouding his features. He turns to Miles. “Miles, obviously you know that my brother wants to talk with you. From what Sasha has said today,” another disapproving look sent to his younger boyfriend, “You also have a basic idea of what he wants to talk about. Apologies. All of this aside, incidentally, Beau has decided that he’s not coming.”

At that, Sasha whips his head around to finally meet eyes with Remi. His mouth is wide open. “Well, that’s news to me.”

Remi gestures as if to say, “Give me one reason as to why I should trust you with this sensitive information.”

Sasha rolls his eyes and - like an angry toddler - crosses his arms in front of him.

Miles shakes his head and tries to focus on the situation at hand. “Wait, wait wait. Beau is definitely  _ not  _ coming to talk to me today.”

“Well,” Remi starts, “He may not be  _ coming  _ to talk with you, but you could go to talk with him. At our house. I’m pretty sure that’s where he is. He’s been holed up there since the break-up.”

Miles feels a twinge in his chest at that. Ouch. Beau - impressive, wonderful, attractive Beau (wait, “attractive”?  _ Stop that, Miles _ ) has been so upset by this break-up that he hasn’t left his home? Miles is reminded of a time when Jax stopped talking to him. Yeah, holed up sounds about right.

“Is that okay, do you think? Like, will Beau be cool with that?” A familiar terror slides up Miles' spine as he speaks. What if Beau wants to... _ fight  _ him? Somehow, Miles finds a private home a much more dangerous venue than a public cafe.

Remi seems to see the fear in Miles's eyes. “Don’t worry. Beau hasn’t moved in a week. He doesn’t want to fight. He wants to talk.”

Another twinge in Miles's chest.  _ Beau hasn’t moved in a week. _

Miles slowly stands from his chair before he realizes what he’s doing. “Your address?” He asks Remi. He can do this. He can  _ do this.  _ Miles Lennox is going to Beau Donaldson’s house to talk about Jax Gardner. This is  _ fine _ .

Miles feels a buzz in his pocket.

“That’s me,” Remi says as Miles reads the text with Remi and Beau’s address. “Good luck, okay? He’s harmless.”

Forgive him, but Miles is still terrified.

He turns to exit the Starbucks, and Sasha grabs his arm. Miles hadn’t even noticed, but Sasha had gotten extremely quiet since Remi’s return. His face still reads regretful as he speaks, “I really am sorry, Miles. Sometimes, I speak before I think.”

_ Sometimes?  _ Miles asks himself.

Out loud, Miles says, “It’s cool.”

And, it is.

With that, he exits the shop with one thought in his mind:  _ People strive to be the best version of themselves when they feel loved and secure. _

He’s not sure what it means yet, but he knows he’ll figure it out soon enough. He always does.

\---

Ten minutes later and Miles is throwing his bike down on the lawn of Beau Donaldson’s home.

The ride over had not offered much consolation. Sure, Remi had said that Beau wouldn’t get violent with him, but how was Miles supposed to know that? It could be a moment of insanity. A temporary lapse in judgment. Just one second lost, and Beau could snap -

The front door opens and Miles is pulled from his reverie to see the man himself standing in the doorway. Beau squints at him and, without a word, turns from him, leaving the door open behind him. Miles supposes that he should follow him. So, he does.

The house is nice. Miles's first thought is that the Donaldsons must be rich. He scolds himself for this. Some people are rich. That’s okay.

As Miles is pulling the front door shut behind him, it bursts open again, seemingly of its own accord. Miles jumps out of the way quickly - and it’s a good thing he does because almost immediately, the once quiet and empty home is full of...children.

There must be four or five kids running around him before he knows it. Miles guesses that they’re all under the age of 13 or so. Beau and Remi’s younger siblings maybe? They definitely look like Beau and Remi. All of them sport the same dark curly hair, the same smooth brown skin, the same bright shining smiles.

And, they’re all boys?

_ They’re breeding them. _

Miles wipes the strange (and mildly racist) thought from his head and tries to make his way past the little boys to where he thinks Beau’s bedroom is.

Before he can stumble too far, one of the boys seems to finally notice his awkward presence. He looks to be the oldest of the five - the leader of the pack. He stands up from his lounging position on the couch and squints at Miles for a minute; just as Beau had done earlier. Finally, he speaks, “Who are you?”

Miles is frozen for a moment before replying, “Miles. I’m Miles.” He feels like he should explain further, but he’s interrupted again. This time, by a much deeper, more developed voice.

“Miles.”

Miles tries to turn and face the voice behind him, but he finds himself terrified once again. This voice is not familiar to him. It’s not Beau or Remi. This is a new voice. Miles gulps and turns.

Miles sees the origin of the children’s kind faces. Presumably, their father is standing in front of him, a welcoming grin gracing his features. His skin is slightly darker than the kids’, but his smile is just as bright. In his arms there is another child. A toddler - Miles guesses - a girl, who is struggling to free herself from her father’s grasp and join her brothers’ games.

“Alright, Clara,” Mr. Donaldson says, stooping to the ground. As soon as she can, she toddles away from them and plops herself on the ground with the rest of the brown-eyed children.

Turning back to the man with the kind grin, Miles realizes that he probably should explain himself now. “Uhm,” he says.  _ Off to a fantastic start!  _ “Hi. I’m Miles. Well, you know that, don’t you? I mean, you heard me say that earlier. I mean.”

He’s rescued ( _ Thank the Lord _ ) by Beau finally exiting his bedroom. “Dad.” Beau sighs and resigns himself to pull Miles along with him to his room. “He’s with me.”

Miles hears Mr. Donaldson chuckle and say, “And, Jax?”

Beau sighs and stops. Miles starts at the look on the boy’s face. Beau is older than Miles, but in this moment, he is only a boy. A boy with a broken heart.

“Working on that,” Beau explains before Miles is pulled completely into the bedroom, and the door is shut behind them.

This is Beau and Remi’s shared room clearly. There are two twin beds lined up against opposite walls, and the bed closest to Miles has a picture of none other than Sasha Roy hanging above it. In spite of himself, Miles lets out a small chuckle at the sight.

“Sorry,” says Beau, suddenly.

Miles turns to where Beau is seated on the other bed. Miles clears his throat and focuses on making eye contact. It’s oddly difficult in this moment. “About...what?” Miles responds, deciding to play dumb for now.

“It’s awkward.” Beau rubs his neck. Well, he’s got that right. “The thing with my dad. The thing that he said. He doesn’t know that me and Jax - that Jax and I - that Jax broke up with me?”

It’s weird. Everything that Beau is saying is phrased like a question, as if he’s not even sure of it himself. This Beau Donaldson is a completely different Beau Donaldson to any that Miles has met before. He is unsure of himself, quiet, uncomfortable - almost as if he is this close to shattering. It’s like if Beau makes one wrong move, his whole world may come tumbling down before him.

Miles knows the feeling.

“No, it’s fine. I’m not - it’s not awkward.”

But, it is. Oh, but it is.

Miles unconsciously rubs his forehead, his mind feeling foggy again. Beau must notice because he comments, “Your head,” in remembrance of Miles's accident.

Miles nods, “Yeah, it’s okay. Feeling better. Got me some pain meds and stuff.”

Beau nods back. “Scary shit.”

Miles nods again. On an unrelated note, he would totally be fine if the floor opened up and swallowed him whole at this very moment.

For the next minute-and-a-half, neither boy says anything. Miles finds himself standing in one position, frozen, for the duration of this silence. His gaze eventually returns to that picture of Sasha above Remi’s bed. For a moment, he wonders how someone could be so devoted to such a person. Someone who changes their persona depending on who they’re in contact with at that moment in time.

And, then, he realizes that he’s saying all of this out loud.

“Shit.” Miles begins backstepping as quickly as he can. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to...Sasha just -”

“ - takes a while to get used to, doesn’t he?” Beau finishes, standing to join Miles at the foot of Remi’s bed. “He’s a good guy in the end.”

Miles wonders something. Once again, he says it aloud without much thought. “Have you ever hung out with him when your brother isn’t around? He’s different.”

Beau thinks. “Come to think of it, I haven’t.”

“You know,” Miles begins. He’s talking a lot. Strangely enough. “I had this thought earlier, after I saw them at Starbucks, ‘ _ People strive to be the best version of themselves when they feel loved and secure.’  _ Sasha’s cool when Remi’s around, but without him? He’s a little intimidating.”

Beau has made his way back to the bed. With a loud grunt, he throws himself down face-first and huffs into the pillow. Miles feels awkward again.

“What?” He asks. Stupid question.

“It’s just -” Beau’s voice is muffled by the pillow, so Miles traverses to the bedside desk and sits there in order to hear him better, “- what you said. People are happier when they’re with their loved ones or whatever. Makes sense.”

Miles is quiet again. The conversation is treading on dangerous grounds.

“Miles,” Beau is sitting up, turning to face Miles head-on. Miles isn’t ready for this. He never should have agreed to meet-up. He never should have come to this house. He never should have talked to Jax about what he was feeling. Basically, he’s regretting every choice that he has ever made in this moment. Beau speaks again, “Miles. Help me. Help me get him back.”

Oh.

“You’re his best friend, Miles, he listens to you.”

_ Oh. _

“Just...talk to Jax for me please.”

**_OH._ **

“Wait...you want me to -” Miles starts.

Beau interrupts, “Talk to Jax. Convince him to give me another chance. I can’t - I just, I  _ need  _ him, you know?”

Need? That’s heavy.

Miles backpedals. He’s confused and hurting and nothing is making sense. Not for the first time. “I don’t even know why Jax broke up with you. Well, not really. I mean, I don’t know what reason he gave you - I mean - I don’t even know what I’m doing here, really. Why couldn’t you come to Starbucks if this is all you wanted to tell me?”

It’s Beau’s turn to look confused. “What did you think I wanted to talk to you about?”

It’s then that Miles realizes that he should be grateful. Beau could have been angry with him. Beau could have confronted him. Beau could have  _ fought  _ him. Instead, Beau doesn’t think anything of Miles and Jax’s relationship - besides, thinking that they’re best friends. Beau doesn’t know about Miles' feelings, about Jax’s feelings, about any of it.

And, it’s then that Miles feels like the biggest asshole in all of Canada.

And, that’s why he says, “Okay. Okay. I’ll do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, my tumblr is isakyaxi. come hang out with me!  
> And, coming up next: The Reunion.


End file.
